


Not Quite Justice

by Ltleflrt



Series: Not Quite Justice [2]
Category: Dragon Age II
Genre: Babies, Dragon Age Big Bang 2012, F/M, Miscarriage
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2013-02-05
Updated: 2013-02-05
Packaged: 2017-11-28 08:00:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 25
Words: 53,550
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/672100
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Ltleflrt/pseuds/Ltleflrt
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Anders is not able to resist Hawke, especially when she gets Justice's attention by offering to help with the mage underground. This story is a look at how things may have been different if Anders and Hawke settle down (sort of) and start a family.<br/>Written for the 2012 Dragon Age Big Bang project.</p><p>Trigger Warning:  References abortion and miscarriage.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> This story could not have happened if it were not for my amazing beta Hot-elf. Not only did she help me with the technical stuff, but she gave me moral support when I flailed around with self doubt, and writer's block.
> 
> And thank you to Pollencount for choosing my story. It's lovely, and I'm so fortunate that my story is the subject of her work!

** **

 

[Art by Pollencount](http://pollencount.tumblr.com/post/42365393387/so-the-lovely-ltleflrt-has-written-a-fan-fiction)

**PART ONE**

Anders had never been so glad to see Kirkwall.  For as much as he hated the place, with its filthy slums, horrifying architecture, and overzealous Templars, it was better than the Deep Roads.  Even the Circle would be preferable.  As soon as he thought that, he shook his head.  No, it wasn’t.  At least in the Deep Roads he could walk back up to the surface and not have to look back once he’d escaped.  The Circle was a place you could never truly be free from.

 

Tanwen Hawke stopped just outside the city gates and adjusted the pack on her shoulders nervously.  “My mother is probably terrified,” she said.  “If it weren’t for the fact that I actually miss that dirty little hovel of my Uncle’s I’d stop by the Hanged Man for a drink first just to bolster my courage to face her babying me for the next month.”

 

Varric sighed.  “I’m sorry Hawke.  I still can’t believe…”

 

She stopped him with a hand on his shoulder and a smile.  “We survived Varric.  Right now that’s all that matters.”

 

Anders rolled his eyes.  “We barely survived.  No offense Varric, but your brother is really low on my list of favorite people.”

 

Varric laughed, and it only held a tinge of bitterness.  “Well when I run into him again Blondie, I’ll make sure you’re around to give him a piece of your mind.”

 

“Count me in, too,” Isabela added.  She stretched her back tiredly and looked around at them.  “I think I’m going to take myself off to The Rose.  I may not come out for a week.”

 

Tanwen grinned.  “We’ll miss you.”

 

Isabela winked, and sauntered away with a languid wave of her fingers.

 

Varric said his goodbyes and headed off to the Hanged Man, mumbling under his breath about how Corff had better not have given his suite away because he was still paid up through the end of the year.

 

Anders watched Tanwen smile and shake her head after him.  “You’re very calm about all of this,” he said.

 

Tanwen blinked up at him surprise.  “It turned out okay, didn’t it?”

 

“You nearly died,” Anders said in exasperation.  “If I hadn’t been there…”  He trailed off with a shudder as he remembered watching the rock wraith fling her body across the cavern.  She’d slammed against the wall, and even though there’s no way he could have heard the crack of her skull against the stone, he’d imagined it.  Seeing the smear of blood, after she slid to the ground had nearly made his heart stop.

 

_“No!” he shouted.  He sent out a pulse of ice at the wraith, freezing it in place just long enough for him to cross over to where Hawke was crumpled on the floor.  “Please don’t be dead!”  When he checked for her pulse and felt nothing, he’d screamed._

 

_“Look out, Blondie!”_

 

_Anders threw up a spell shield just in time to avoid the wave of power the wraith emitted.  It just barely held up, and he was shaking by the time the onslaught ended.  He gently picked Hawke up and moved her behind some rocks.  He knew that Varric and Isabela needed him, but if Hawke died… He’d forced himself to end that thought immediately._

 

_He summoned every ounce of his power and extended his senses, looking into Hawke’s body.  She had so many broken bones, including a crack in the back of her skull.  But her heart hadn’t stopped.  He could sense it fluttering in her chest, too weak for him to feel with his shaking fingers.  He began to heal her, praying to the Maker for enough power to save her life._

 

If he hadn’t been there, she would be dead.  And he wasn’t sure he could have survived hearing the news.  He had tried so hard to resist loving her, but he should have known it was inevitable.

 

He’d spent months at her side, watching her deal with every crisis that was brought before her.  She was calm, and fair, and had a way of seeing beyond the surface of a person to see what was underneath.  She’d told him once that she didn’t really have friends before moving to Kirkwall because she’d needed to protect her family from outsiders.  He remembered thinking that the people of Lothering had truly missed an amazing opportunity.

 

And she did not judge him for being an ‘abomination’.  In fact she’d teased him about it, almost immediately, commenting on his “sexy, tortured look.”  She’d stayed with him afterwards, despite her sister’s protests.  They’d spent all night talking.  Not about the events of the evening, but about his memories of Karl, his opinions on the Circle and the Templars.  Hawke mostly listened, asking questions occasionally.  She reminded him of the Warden Commander who had been the only other friend he’d ever spoken to about his time in the Circle.

 

Anders suspected he’d inadvertently given her the impression that he only liked men because of the way he spoke of Karl.  He’d considered correcting the assumption, but it was for the best that she keep her distance.  Being friends with him was dangerous.  He didn’t want his activities in Kirkwall to lead back to her, because she got herself in enough trouble without him adding to it.

 

“Anders?”

 

He blinked realizing that he’d trailed off and hadn’t said anything for a while.  Focusing on her again, he smiled.  “Well anyway.  I’m glad you allowed me to come.”

 

Tanwen laughed.  “I’m surprised you offered.  Knowing what the Deep Roads are like now, I wish I had listened when you tried to warn me about going.”

 

Anders shuddered.  “That was a walk in the park,” he said.  As horrible as it had been to fight the rock wraith, he’d take a hundred of them versus one Broodmother.

 

She wrinkled her nose at him.  “I’ll take your word for it.  From my position, it was pretty bad.”  Her expression cleared and she gave him a solemn look.  “Thank you.  For taking care of me.”

 

As if he could have done anything different.  “You’re welcome,” he answered simply, hoping she would drop the subject.

 

She rubbed the back of her neck under the braids of black hair and her blue eyes turned in the direction of Lowtown.  “Would you like to come with me to Gamlen’s house?  My mother is probably going to try and stuff me with food when I get back.  After weeks of nothing but mushrooms, I’ll be happy for it, but I’m sure there will be plenty to share.”

 

Anders shook his head.  “Thank you, but I need to get back to the clinic and make sure it hasn’t been ransacked.”

 

Her blue eyes flicked up to his and away again, almost shyly.  “Well alright.  But if you get hungry, you know where to find me.”

 

He nodded his agreement, and she turned to walk home.  He watched her small form move gracefully through the crowds, admiring the swaying curves.  She was thinner, but that wouldn’t last long.  With the profits from the treasure they had found in the rock wraith’s lair, she would never want for food again.

 

His own share would go towards stocking the clinic, and funding the mage underground.  He sighed.  He’d been gone much longer than intended.  His contact in the underground, Mistress Selby, probably thought he was dead, or worse.  Once Hawke was out of sight, he turned to make his way to the closest entrance to Darktown.  Pushing thoughts of the woman from his mind, he began a mental list of all the things he would need to do now that he was back.

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

Surprisingly, the clinic was intact.  The doors were still closed and the locks in place.  When he went inside he found that everything was covered in the dust of disuse.  The cabinet in the back room where he kept his potions was untouched, the glamour spell that hid it still in place.

 

He propped his staff against the wall in the small alcove where he kept his cot, and plopped down on the thin mattress, coughing as dust billowed up from the dirty sheets.  He was fully clothed and filthy, but he didn’t care.  Even this felt like a luxury after months in the Deep Roads.

 

**_We must not remain idle.  There is work to be done_ ** **.**

 

Anders groaned.  Justice had been mostly quiet during the trip.  Having also been a Warden, he understood the importance of protecting people from the Darkspawn and he hadn’t protested when Anders had offered to go along on the expedition.  But now that they were back, the plight of the mages was foremost in his mind.  Unfortunately, he didn’t understand the concept of sleep.

 

When Anders slept, Justice was still awake, still aware.  He was only able to watch Anders dream, and it frustrated him.

 

“This body can only go so long without sleep,” Anders mumbled.  He threw an arm over his face.  He wouldn’t mind going without sleep if it meant he could avoid the nightmares he usually experienced.  They had been particularly bad in the Deep Roads.  Despite the absence of an Archdemon, the Darkspawn still whispered incoherently in his dreams.  But he would take the mindless jumble over a talking Darkspawn any day.

 

His stomach grumbled, reminding him that his body could also only go so long without food.  He tried to ignore it, but after a while it began to feel like his stomach would attempt to digest his spine if he didn’t feed himself.  With a groan he got up, and rummaged through the cupboard where he kept his food.  The apples he’d received in payment for his services were moldy heaps, and some enterprising rats appeared to have stolen the cheese and bread he kept.

 

“Gone for months,” he said with a pout.  “I don’t know what else I expected.”

 

When his stomach protested its state of emptiness again, he sighed.  He knew he could probably sleep through the hunger, but knowing he didn’t really have to spurred him to go in search of a meal.  He considered taking Hawke up on her offer, but he needed some distance from her to clear his head.  Locking the clinic back up behind him, he decided to go visit Lirene’s shop.  It was late in the afternoon, but still early enough that if he hurried he could make it to the market before she closed for the evening.

 

Sure enough, Lirene’s shop was still bustling with activity when he arrived.  Anders had to squeeze between quite a few people to reach her table at the back.  He waited quietly while she handed out bread rations to a young woman barely out of her own childhood carrying a baby.  The infant looked up at him with eyes too large for its thin face, making Anders’ heart ache that he could not do something for the child.  But only food could cure what ailed her.  

 

When Lirene looked up and caught sight of him, she looked like she’d seen a ghost.  Her face was quickly wreathed with smiles and she came around the table to wrap her arms around him.

 

“Thank the Maker,” Lirene said into the feathers at his shoulder.  “You’ve been gone so long.  We all thought you were dead, or captured…”

 

Anders hugged her back fondly.  He’d missed the plucky woman.  “I’m sorry,” he said.  “I had a bit of an adventure.”  He pulled back and smiled down at her.  “I’ll tell you all about it if I can have a small loaf of bread.”

 

Lirene leaned back and gave him a mocking glare.  “I can do better than that for you.  Come with me.”  She turned and gave instructions to her assistant to run the shop while she was gone.  She looped an arm through Anders’ and dragged him through the crowds to a room at the back of the shop.  There was a fireplace against the far wall, and a pot of something that smelled divine was simmering over it.

 

Anders’ stomach growled loudly at the smell.  “Is that stew?” he asked wistfully.  He rarely had anything more than bread with cheese and occasionally the fruit or vegetables his patients brought him, and the last few weeks in the Deep Roads had narrowed his diet down even further as they struggled to survive being trapped by Bartrand without any rations.  Whatever was bubbling in Lirene’s pot could have been rat stew for all he knew but it seemed like a feast to Anders’ starved senses.

 

Lirene smiled and pushed him down into one of the chairs around the small table in the center of the room.  She scooped some of the stew into a trencher, and placed it in front of him.  “That was boiling less than a minute ago.  Give it time to cool down.”

 

She turned away to pour what smelled like beer into a mug while he spooned some of the stew into his mouth.  It was scalding hot and his curse was muffled by the food.

 

“I told you,” Lirene said with a chuckle as she placed the mug in front of him.

 

Anders quickly took a drink to cool his mouth and swallowed.  A slight push of magic healed his singed tongue.  “Worth it,” he said with a grin as he scooped up another bite.  This time he channeled a little magic to cool it down.  Now that he could taste it, he was pleased to find it was chicken floating in the thick gravy-like broth and not rat.

 

“That’s a useful trick,” Lirene said.  She motioned to her own trencher, and Anders cooled it down for her too.

 

“Magic serving man, at its finest,” Anders said with a full mouth.  He normally had better manners, but he was ravenous.

 

Lirene didn’t seem to mind.  She filled him in on the latest happenings with the mages.  The underground movement had come to a stop recently because there were more Templar patrols than usual.  It wasn’t something to worry too much about for the moment, she told him.  The raids would die down after a few weeks and they would get back to work.

 

The news worried him, but she was right about one thing.  His work would start again.  He couldn’t allow this to continue.  But as much as Justice was pushing him to go out _right now_ and _do_ something, he knew that it would be a bad idea with extra patrols out.  The last thing he wanted to do was give the Templars reason to call for assistance from the other Circles.  

 

When he was finished eating, he leaned back in his chair and folded his hands over a stomach that was protruding slightly.  He was probably going to regret the second helping tonight, but not at the moment.  “Lirene you should marry me and fatten me up,” he teased.

 

She laughed at him as she cleared the table.  She poured them each another mug of beer and sat back down.  “I’d take you up on that if you weren’t sweet on that pretty smuggler.”

 

The smile on Anders’ face faded.  “What pretty smuggler?”  He was trying for an innocent tone, and he might have pulled off the deception if his voice hadn’t cracked.  He sipped his beer to hide his reaction.

 

“The one with the blue eyes and the sharp, pointy knives,” Lirene said with a wink. “You look at her like a mooncalf whenever she’s not paying attention.  It’s cute really.  Especially since she gives you the same look when your back is turned.”

 

Anders choked on his beer.  It took a few coughs to clear his lungs enough to squint at her and croak out a reply.  “I’m… sorry?”

 

Lirene smirked into her mug.  “You heard me,” she said before taking a sip.

 

He cleared his throat again a few times as he tried to absorb what she was telling him.  “You think Hawke is giving me…. looks?”

 

She leaned forward and set her mug down and leaned her arms on the table.  “Well you’ve only been in here with her a few times, but I notice things.  I’m a hopeless old romantic.”  She reached across the table and covered his hand with hers.  “And I think you could use a little romance in your life.  And a little less adventure.”

 

Anders shook his head.  “It’s better that I don’t get involved with her anyway.  I don’t lead the safest life.”

 

“If the stories I’ve heard about her are true, then she doesn’t either,” Lirene replied.  She stood and gathered the empty mugs and dropped them into a bucket of water near the fireplace.

 

Anders stared down at the scarred table while she went about cleaning.  He wanted to push the idea from his mind, but he couldn’t.  “She thinks I prefer men,” he said in one last feeble attempt to deny himself.

 

**_Distraction_ ** **…**

 

Yes.  But one that he felt like he might need.

 

“Well, you could always set her straight on that,” the older woman replied.

 

Anders sat slumped in his chair, staring blindly into the flames of the hearth as he thought about her words.  Keeping Hawke at arms length was by no means easy, but it was made easier by thinking that she didn’t return his feelings.  Knowing that she might actually feel the same... he swallowed in an attempt to moisten his throat which had gone suddenly dry.   _I might be in trouble._

 

“Thank you for dinner Lirene,” Anders said as he got up to leave.  “I’ll be at the clinic if you need me.”

 

“Any time, love,” Lirene said as she gave him one last hug.


	3. Chapter 3

Anders almost didn’t notice that the door to the clinic was partially opened because he was so deep in thought.  Dangerous when walking through Darktown, but most people recognized him as The Healer and left him alone.  He wasn’t completely oblivious though, and he noticed the door hanging slightly ajar just before he reached it.

 

He lifted his staff from the sling at his back and whispered a spell.  A cloud of violet darkness swirled around his fist and along the shaft of wood.  It coalesced around the crystal at the top, ready to explode at any enemies he encountered.  With his free hand he reached out to open the door.

 

A sound from inside caught his attention and he frowned.  Someone was crying.  He pushed the door open further and let the destructive spell fade, replacing it with a wisp in the crystal to light up the room.  His head came up in shock at what he saw.

 

“Hawke?”

 

She was sitting cross legged on his desk with her head in her hands.  Her long hair was down out of its braids and coils and draped around her body like a cloak.  Hawke lifted her head, and his heart fell into his stomach when he saw the tears streaking her face.  He rushed forward, dropping his staff and taking her by the shoulders.  “What’s wrong?”

 

“They took her,” she sobbed.  Her face was a mask of pain and anguish, and his heart broke just looking at her.

 

“Who?” he urged when she didn’t say anything further.  “What’s happened?”

 

Hawke wrapped her arms around his shoulders and buried her face in his neck.  Her words were muffled, but they froze him to his soul.  “Bethany… the Templars took my sister.”

 

Anders pulled her against his chest in a tight hug as he stared blankly at the wall behind her.  Sweet little Bethany.  Varric called her Sunshine for a reason.  Her smile lit up rooms, and everyone loved her.  Even that grouchy elf with the pretty tattoos softened when Bethany spoke to him.  “How did it happen?” he asked as he ran his hands down over her hair.  He felt guilty for enjoying how silky it felt, especially when Justice was raging inside him.

 

“They were there when I got home.  I wanted to stop them, but I couldn’t… she wouldn’t let me.  She went with them willingly to… to…” she hiccoughed and began to sob.

 

“To protect you,” Anders whispered.  If Hawke had tried to stop them, if Bethany had resisted, the Templars would have arrested Hawke and her family, kill them if they wanted.  Meredith wouldn’t blink an eye if the Templars’ report stated that they were killed while resisting arrest.  He pulled Hawke closer.  “Oh Maker, I’m so sorry,” he whispered against her hair.

 

Her sobs eventually calmed, until she was just breathing against his neck.  Her voice still wobbled slightly when she finally spoke.  “Anders, help me get her out.”

 

As much as he enjoyed the feel of her pressed against him that caused him to jerk back in surprise.  He looked down into her eyes.  They were wide and desperate, and for once she was the one looking for help instead of the one offering it.  It was strange, and it made her seem younger than her years.

 

“I can’t promise you anything,” he said warily.  "But I will do what I can."

 

Hawke punched him in the shoulder.  “I know you work with the mage underground.”

 

He winced, from the punch and from the fact that she knew.  He’d tried to keep those activities secret from her, but apparently she knew more than he expected.  “How did you find out?” he asked on a sigh as he rubbed his shoulder and moved away from her a few steps.  He needed to feel her in his arms, and that set of warning bells in his head.  He couldn’t allow those feelings to surface.

 

She leaned back and sniffled loudly.  Anders rolled his eyes and pulled out a handkerchief for her.  She gave him a watery smile and he hated that he loved her so much right now when she was having such a major crisis.

 

“I was a smuggler for a year, Anders,” She said.  Her voice was ragged from crying, but there was a ribbon of amusement in her voice.  “It was my business to know things.”  And she was good at it too.  When she’d first come to his clinic looking for the maps he had, he didn’t recognize her, but he’d soon learned that many people did.  She had many connections and many admirers.  Athenril still asked Hawke for help now and then even though her contract was over.  That reputation brought many people to her for assistance.

 

He felt his lips quirk up in a smile.  “Well, as long as that information is just between you and me.”

 

“And Varric,” Hawke added.  “He knows everything.  I’m pretty sure he knows what color Fenris’ underwear is and that’s why he gets that smug look when Isabela starts trying to talk him into showing them to her.”  Hawke’s eyes had lost their hollow look and they even twinkled a bit with humor.  Hope for her sister had brought back her normal calm demeanor.  “She should just give up.  Fenris is sweet on Bethany.”

 

Anders’ eyebrows shot up in disbelief.  “But he hates mages.”

 

“No one hates Bethany,” Hawke said with a slight quiver to her voice, but she managed to smile.

 

“But… Fenris?”

 

Hawke shook her head.  “He’s not a bad person, Anders.  He’s just scared.”

 

Anders snorted and shook his head. “With an attitude like his, he should be.  I’m proud of myself for resisting the urge to singe his arse every time I see him.”

 

This time she laughed.  “Thank you for that.”  Her expression dimmed slightly and she hopped down from the desk.  “I suppose I should go.  Mother wasn’t terribly happy with me for leaving so soon after getting back home.  It would probably make me a bad daughter if I stayed here with you all night.”

 

Anders’ imagination ran away with him at the thought of _all night_.  He pictured taking her half clothed on his desk, completely bare on his coat on the floor, eventually they’d make it to the bed, but not until – _stop it!_  He shook his head and smiled wanly at her.  “You aren’t a bad daughter.  I don’t think you know how to be.”

 

Hawke’s face scrunched up in a look of disgusted disagreement.  “There are so many reasons you are wrong about that.”  As she stepped forward, a large shadow moved near the desk and Barkley materialized next to her.  It never failed to surprise Anders how silently that dog could move, especially when he’d heard the beast bark.  “Would you like to hear a list?” she asked.

 

“Only if you want to hear counter arguments,” Anders teased.

 

She laughed again, and shook her head bitterly.  “No thank you.  I already have enough reasons to like you.  Showering me with compliments will just make me want to hug you, and I’m afraid I wouldn’t stop.”

 

Anders felt like he’d been punched in the chest.  He opened his mouth, but he couldn’t say what he was thinking.   _I love you.  I would hold you until the sky collapses and the Maker turns his gaze back to Thedas.  No, that’s a lie because I’d have to make love to you, worship you.  And I’ve got too many interesting positions that require my hands to be free._  He could feel Justice’s confusion and fascination.  He had memories of Kristoff’s love for Aura, but they were vague and hazy.  This overflowing he felt in Anders’ soul was almost too bright for him to handle.  Anders pushed the feelings down, and felt Justice calm.  But he couldn’t resist touching Hawke again, so he spoke part of his feelings.  “I wouldn’t mind hugs.  I like them.”

 

_Idiot._

 

_Worth it._

 

 ** _You are talking to yourself,_** Justice said in the back of his mind.

 

_Shut up._

 

Hawke smiled and walked forward to wrap her arms around his waist and lay her head on his chest.  He wrapped his arms around her and propped his chin on the crown of her head.  She was so small that for a moment he was overwhelmed with the need to protect her, although he knew she would never allow it.  She was the protector.  And that was what he loved about her.

 

“Can I show you something?” Hawke asked softly.

 

Anders pulled back and looked down at her curiously.  “Of course,” he agreed warily.

 

To his surprise, and secret enjoyment, Hawke took his hand in hers and led him out of the clinic after he stopped to pick up his staff.  Not too far from the entrance, she led him to what looked like a caved in tunnel.  There were a lot of them in Darktown, but he imagined there weren’t many that opened into a small passage when some of the rocks and beams of wood were moved.  He had to help her with some of them, but the pieces weren’t very heavy.  He was impressed with whoever had hidden the entrance.  He hadn’t even suspected, and it was practically next door.  He walked past this every time he entered the clinic.

 

The entrance was small, but Anders didn’t have any problem squeezing in behind Hawke.  After crawling for less than a few feet his face bumped into the back of her knees.  Apparently the passage opened up enough to stand.  “Sorry,” he mumbled.

 

He heard her chuckle.  “A little light, please?”

 

Anders smiled at the idea of someone actually wanting a mage around for his talents, and summoned a wisp.  It filled the small space with pale blue light and he suddenly got a very up close and personal view of a very round, very pert little ass.  Right. In. His. Face.

 

 _Maker.  Thank you for making_ that.

 

Forcing his gaze away, he looked up to see that the cave was tall enough for him to stand in, and after one last lingering glance at Hawke’s rear, he climbed to his feet.  The tunnel was small and he was forced to stand close enough that he could feel her heat.  He cleared his throat and dusted off his hands in an attempt to distract himself.

 

“Thanks,” she said with a smile.  She stepped up to the far wall and he could see that there were metal rungs embedded in the stone.  Hawke started climbing nimbly, and he had to send up another prayer of gratitude that he got to enjoy watching the flexing of her legs from this angle for a moment before he started to follow her.

 

A whining bark sounded below them, and they both twisted around to see Barkley sitting at the bottom of the ladder.  “Guard the entrance Barkley,” Hawke said.  The mabari whined again, and huffed at them irritably.  “Don’t worry,” she replied.  “Anders will protect me.”

 

Barkley’s bark of agreement sounded suspiciously disgusted, but he did as she asked and went to sit down near the cave entrance.  He glared at Anders, and the mage could almost hear the mabari warning him that he’d better do a good job of protecting her, or he’d be lunch.

 

He was going to be alone with Hawke, Anders thought as he started climbing up after her again.  He glanced up every few seconds, just to make sure he could memorize the view.  After all, he didn’t know when he’d get another chance to look at it so thoroughly.  He couldn’t help but feel some regret when they finally reached the top of the ladder and she crawled out of sight.


	4. Chapter 4

The ladder led them to a trap door in the floor of what appeared to be storage rooms.  It was mostly empty, with only a few barrels and crates scattered around the large space.  As he followed Hawke across the room, he was eaten alive by curiosity.  The place was obviously somewhere they shouldn’t be, but he didn’t question her.  He knew she would explain things soon enough.

 

Some stairs led to another level and another large chamber, but this one made Anders stop in his tracks just inside the door.  The walls were lined with wooden cages, large enough to hold…. humans.

 

“Where… What is this place, Hawke?” he said nervously.

 

Hawke was also eyeing the cages with a frown.  “This is my mother’s estate.”

 

“Your mother is a slaver?” Anders asked.  He was going for light and teasing, but doubted it came across that way.  His throat felt at the idea of how many people could be held in a room this large.

 

She rolled her eyes at him and smiled, although it looked stiff.  “Uncle Gamlen used it to pay some debts.  Turns out he deals with some very unsavory people.  Not too surprising really, once you get to know the old buzzard.”

 

“But you said it was your mother’s…” he trailed off as he followed her up another set of stairs which led up to a very large kitchen.  Big enough to feed a small army.

 

Hawke spoke over her shoulder as she led him further into the estate.  “Bethany and I suspected our dear Uncle was hiding something.  He was being more defensive than usual.  So we broke in and found our grandfather’s will and cleared out the slavers while we were at it.  Turns out grandfather left the place to mother, but because we were in Ferelden, Gamlen took advantage of the situation and claimed it as his own.”

 

“And he’s still alive?”  Anders’ teased.  Mostly.

 

“Mother still loves him.  Wouldn’t want to upset her any more.”

 

They were now in the grand hall, which was dominated on one side by a beautiful staircase and a very large fireplace on another wall.  Anders walked over to a door across from the fireplace and opened it curiously as he spoke.  “So why haven’t you moved in?  You have the will as proof…” he trailed off as he realized the room he was standing in was a very large, two level library.  He walked in slowly and looked around.  Books were the only thing he’d loved about being in the Circle, and while this room was nothing in comparison to the library in the Tower he grew up in, it was still a beautiful sight to behold.

 

“Back taxes,” Hawke answered simply as she followed him in.  She walked across the room and pulled a book from the shelf and flipped through it in the blue light of the wisp still following Anders around.  “Once I’ve paid them, we’ll be able to move in,” she added absently as she flipped through it.

 

Anders wasn’t surprised that she could read.  If her mother was a noble, she would have received lessons.  “Do you like to read?” he asked as he pulled down another book to look over.

 

“Love it,” she answered.  She flipped the book shut and slid it back in the shelf, caressing the leather for a moment.  “I’m surprised the slavers didn’t sell these.  Or worse, use them for kindling.”

 

“Maybe they were scholarly slavers,” Anders said as he also put his book back.

 

Hawke laughed, and it was more genuine than any he’d heard from her since before Bartrand betrayed them in the Deep Roads.  “I doubt it.  They were probably too stupid to understand their value.  Barkley probably has more appreciation for a book than they would.”  Her smile faded.  “Bethany was so excited to move in here.  She dreamed of living in an estate, and wearing silk dresses, and being courted by handsome young men.”

 

Anders frowned.  He could hear the guilt in her voice.  “Hey,” he said softly.  He reached out and squeezed her arm.  “It’s not your fault that Bethany was taken.”

 

“Wasn’t it?” she asked without looking at him.  “I could have taken her with me, like she wanted.”

 

“You don’t know what could have happened down there.  You almost died.  If I hadn’t been there…” He refused to allow himself to follow that path of thought again.  “Taking Bethany to the Deep Roads could have been just as disastrous.”

 

“Maybe.  But not taking her was obviously a bad decision too.”  Her face started to crumble again.  “She doesn’t belong in the Circle, Anders.  She’s sweet, and good, and she is definitely _not_ cursed by the Maker.  It’s not fair that someone so good should be treated like a prisoner!”  This last was spoken in an angry hiss.

 

Even Justice was taken aback by the fury in her voice.  He stared at her, unable to speak in the face of her conviction.  She was beautiful when she was angry.  Her blue eyes flashed, and her chest heaved.

 

**_She believes in our cause._ **

 

_Oh, now you like her, too? What happened to all that “distraction” business?_

 

**_We can use her._ **

 

 _Not what I wanted to hear, my friend._  Justice’s confusion told Anders the spirit still hadn’t gotten the hang of sarcasm.

 

Hawke’s anger faded, and her expression turned wary.  “Sorry,” she said.  “It’s a sore subject.”

 

Anders laughed and tugged her closer.  “You are amazing.”

 

She blinked up at him in surprise.  “What?  Why?” she asked curiously.

 

“You risked your life for your sister.  Going into the Deep Roads, facing Darkspawn, turning down deals with Hunger demons.  Just so your sister could wear silk dresses.  And now you’re apologizing, to _me_ of all people, for getting angry at the injustice of the Circle?”

 

Her smile was sheepish.  “Yeah, that was kind of silly of me, wasn’t it?”

 

“Very.”  Anders smiled and took a step back, letting go of her arm.  He needed the space, or he was going to have her, right here on the floor of the library.  “I’m not the Circle’s most ardent supporter.”

 

Hawke smiled.  “Yeah, I kinda got that.”  She sighed and the tension left her body.  “So… let’s go explore some more, shall we?”

 

She grabbed his hand and dragged him out of the library.  They had pretty much explored the whole downstairs at this point, so she pulled him up the stairs.  There were several bedrooms, and even a bathing chamber.  One of the rooms had a wall of windows covered with long velvet drapes, and together they pulled them open.  Anders quickly put out his wisp so it couldn’t be seen by anyone in the neighboring estates.

 

Hawke let out a gasp and stepped closer to the glass so she could look up at the sky.  The stars were twinkling and the full moon could still be seen.  “Bethany can have all the silk dresses,” she said softly.  “As long as I can have this room.  Look at that view.  Isn’t it beautiful?”

 

“Yes,” Anders said as he stared at her instead of the city skyline outside the panes of glass.  “Very beautiful.”  She looked so young standing there in the light of the night sky.  So very full of life.  An image of her lying broken and lifeless in the dark of the Deep Roads flashed through his mind, followed by the even worse horror of what she would look like if she survived, but was captured by Darkspawn.  Eyes dead, skin turning grey where it wasn’t covered with lesions.  He’d kill her before he’d let them turn her into a Broodmother.  Thank the Maker he had gone with her to the Deep Roads.

 

She also needed protection.  Even if she thought she didn’t.

 

He pushed the thought away, and just enjoyed her company.  He felt strangely torn.  His body wanted to touch her, to pull her into his arms.  But his heart was content to just be in her presence.  It hurt to love her and to know that he shouldn’t.  To know that she was better off without him.

 

“I should have talked them into leaving,” Hawke sighed after several minutes of comfortable silence.  “I should have taken those fifty sovereigns and just left Kirkwall behind.  And now it’s too late.”

 

“Why didn’t you?” Anders asked softly, still watching her profile.

 

“This is my mother’s home.  My friends,” she turned to smile at him, including him in the word, “are here.  I didn’t want to run anymore.  I wanted a home for Bethany.”

 

“In Kirkwall?”  Anders asked with a disbelieving snort.  “This place is a shit hole.”

 

Hawke huffed a laugh, and turned back to watch the sky.  Not taking her eyes off the window, she backed up until her legs hit the back of the bed, and plopped backward on the dusty coverlet.  She patted the blanket next to her in invitation.  Little clouds of dust puffed up around her fingers to float aimlessly in the moonbeams that filled the room.

 

Knowing he shouldn’t, but unable to resist being closer, Anders sat down next to her, but didn’t lay back.  It made it easier that he couldn’t see more than just her thighs and knees next to him.  Until he remembered that he wanted to be between those thighs.  He stifled a groan and forced himself to stop looking.

 

“I want to help,” Hawke said into the silence.

 

Anders turned to look at her face, but she was hidden in shadows.  That didn’t stop him from picturing the determination in her eyes, though.  “With what?”

 

Hawke sat up next to him, and moonlight washed over her proving that his imagination wasn’t off by much.  “The mage underground.  And not just to get Bethany out of the Circle.  I want to help.”

 

His eyes widened.  “No.  No, that’s… it is not a good idea, Hawke.”

 

“Tanwen.”

 

“What?” Anders asked in confusion at the sudden change of subject.

 

Her lips quirked up in amusement.  “My name.  It’s Tanwen.”

 

 _It’s beautiful._  He shook his head.  “Tanwen,” it felt like sin and redemption on his tongue.  “It’s dangerous, and if you get caught-“

 

Hawke plopped back down on the bed with a frustrated groan, causing more dust to fly up and float slowly through the moonbeams.  “Anders, _I’m_ dangerous, if you haven’t noticed.  I don’t need you to protect me.  I need you to let me help my sister escape.”

 

She was right about the dangerous part, even if she was wrong about not needing protection.  He’d seen her in action so many times.  She was poetry in motion.  If it didn’t scare him out of his mind to see her in danger, it would be difficult to not stare in awe while she fought.  Gingerly, he leaned back to lie down next to her.  He wanted to look at her, but he stared up at the canopy over the bed.  “I’m sorry,” he said softly.  “I just worry about you.  I see you take all these risks, and I just… just want to protect you.”  He turned his head, but still didn’t look directly at her.  He should not have made that admission, but he needed her to know some of the truth.

 

“Anders.”

 

He couldn’t resist the unspoken request in her voice, and his eyes flicked down to meet hers.  They were black in the darkness, but he could picture their color.  Dark blue with just a bit of grey around the pupil.  Her skin looked white in the moonlight, but it was like strawberries and cream, and surprisingly freckle free considering how much time she spent in the sun.  Her hair was like a dark shadow blending in with the night and rolling slightly, he reached out to run his fingers through it just to make sure it was real.

 

“I think this is the first time I’ve ever seen you with your hair down,” he murmured as he rubbed the silky strands between his fingers.  “I like it.”

 

She raised a hand to touch his, and he saw confusion flit across her expression.  “Anders, that night in the Chantry, when we went to rescue Karl…” she trailed off uncertainly.  She swallowed before continuing.  “I saw the way you looked at him.  You were so excited to see him.  And when he turned around…”

 

Anders closed his eyes against the sympathy in her eyes.  “Yes,” he prompted when she didn’t continue right away.

 

“You loved him.”

 

Not a question.  So very complicated.  “I did,” he answered.  “He and I were lovers when we were in the Circle together in Ferelden.”  He opened his eyes because he needed to see her reaction.  The moon had moved but her face was still in shadow.  “Does that bother you?” he asked.   _Please say yes.  Give me a reason to protect you from me._

 

A sigh.  The bed shifted as she moved closer to him.  “Quite a bit actually.”

 

Anders felt his heart stop.  It was what he needed to hear, but not what he wanted.  “Oh.”

 

“I’m jealous.  I try not to be, but I wish you looked at me… “

 

He was always looking at her.  When she wasn’t paying attention.  “I’m looking at you now,” he murmured.

 

She jerked slightly.  “But I thought-“

 

Anders rolled until he was draped over her body.  He swallowed her gasp with his mouth.  She tasted better than he could have dreamed.  He felt like a man dying of thirst and she was the only thing that could quench his thirst.  Tanwen was kissing him back, her tongue deep in his mouth.  He suckled it gently, drinking in her moans.

 

His mind was a jumble of thoughts, his own and Justice’s, telling him why he shouldn’t be kissing her.  Shouldn’t be touching her.  All of the reasons were logical however anyone who knew him also knew that he was the kind to follow his heart.  That’s why he’d made so many attempts to escape the Circle.  His heart needed to be free, and his mind could never talk him into accepting his lot.

 

Hawke, _Tanwen_ , called to him like the ocean called to young sailors.  He had resisted, but knowing that she wanted him as well was the final push that took him over the edge.  Flemeth’s words about taking the leap floated through his mind.  He may fall, but hawks could fly.  He just hoped he didn’t pull her down into the abyss with him.


	5. Chapter 5

Tanwen’s hands were wrapped tightly around his neck, her fingers gripping his hair, and she was making small whimpering sounds against his mouth.  He could feel her chest heaving under his as she gasped for breath in between kisses.  His fingers dug into the coverlet at her side in a desperate attempt to not go any further, to just make love to her mouth with his.

 

It wasn’t enough.  Not nearly.

 

With a gasp, he pulled away and pushed himself up a few inches above her so that he could look at her.  He couldn’t really see her in his shadow, but he could feel her breath against his chin and neck.  He made one last desperate attempt to stop things before they went too far.  “Tanwen, I can’t do this.”

 

“Because I’m not what you want?” she asked shakily, her tone laced with self doubt.  With that question, she managed to break through the last of his resistance.  The battle was lost.  He just couldn’t allow that thread of insecurity to remain in her voice.

 

Anders leaned his head down until their foreheads touched, and their noses brushed.  “You’re everything I want,” he said.  “I shouldn’t be telling you this.  I should get up and walk away right now.  But...  We could die tomorrow.  I don’t want it to be before I tell you how I feel.”  He leaned his weight on one elbow, and with his free hand brushed his fingers gently over her cheek, her lips.  “I can’t resist any longer.”

 

Tanwen’s breath hitched.  “Me?  You can’t resist me?”

 

Anders brushed his lips against hers.  Not a kiss, but a promise, and when he pulled back slightly she tried to follow him.  “Yes, you.  You beautiful woman.”

 

She was quiet, still.  The silence stretched for so long that he began to wonder if he should have kept his mouth shut.  But then her hands tightened in his hair and she pulled him down to kiss him, her tongue sliding back into his mouth.

 

He was lost.  Justice was no longer protesting; he was fascinated with the feelings Anders was no longer suppressing.   _It’s going to get better,_ Anders thought smugly.  He hadn’t been with anyone since before they’d joined, and using his hand was nothing compared to what he was feeling now.

 

His fingers slid down her throat, brushed her collarbone, and lower until with a moan he was cupping her breast.  She gasped and arched her back, prompting him to squeeze the soft flesh.  The movement caused their mouths to separate, but he took advantage of the new angle.  Gently, he bit her jaw then ran his tongue over the skin.  Spread kisses down her throat and nuzzled her collarbone above her shirt.  “You’re wearing too many clothes,” he murmured.

 

“Well, by all means, let’s do something about that,” she said on a gasp as his teeth scraped her pulse.

 

Anders pushed himself up onto his knees, straddling her waist and began tugging the shirt out of her pants.  Tanwen helped by unbuckling the straps around her shoulders where she kept her knives sheathed.  She leaned up slightly to slip out of the harness.  When her hands came down and pulled the shirt up over her head, Anders forgot how to breathe.

 

Tanwen froze when she realized he’d stopped touching her, and his eyes had adjusted enough to the darkness that he could see the uncertainty in her expression.  “Anders…?”

 

“Maker you are beautiful,” he breathed.  He reached out with an unsteady hand to touch one of her breasts, hesitating at the last moment, close enough to feel her warmth.  “I’m worried this might be a Fade dream.”

 

She grabbed his hand and pulled it to her breast, and they moaned together as his fingers closed over the warm flesh.  Her nipple pebbled against his palm, and he just moved his hand in slight circles, feeling it grow harder against his callused skin.  He leaned forward and brushed his beard against the center of her chest, leaning to the side so his cheek rubbed over the breast that he wasn’t caressing.

 

When Tanwen sighed his name, he smiled before turning his head and taking her nipple into his mouth.  He suckled hungrily, savoring the sounds she made.  She was quiet, yet still vocal.  The urge to see how loud she got was overwhelming.  Still laving one breast with his mouth, he moved to tweak her other nipple with his fingers, rolling it gently between his thumb and forefinger.  She yelped and her hips bucked under him, making him chuckle darkly.

 

“Anders.”

 

“Yes, love?” he said against her breast, knowing his breath against her damp skin would stimulate the sensitive nerves.

 

She tugged at his sleeve.  “You’re still wearing too many clothes.”

 

“Hm, that’s a good point, but I’m kind of busy here.”

 

Tanwen punched him in the shoulder, making him laugh again.  “Anders.”

 

“Yes ma’am,” he said to her unspoken demand.  He got up and stood at the edge of the bed.  He considered going slowly, giving her a show, but he couldn’t this time.  He was doing good to not just pounce on her.  His fingers fumbled over the buckles of his coat, but he had it off along with his shirt quickly.  A quick spell unlaced his boots and he toed them off.

 

Tanwen suddenly sat up.  Her fingers found the scar on his chest.  “Anders what is this?”

 

In his excitement he’d forgotten about his scars, and the fact that she had very sharp eyes.  He put his hands over hers, flattening them over his heart.  “It’s one of the reasons I left the Wardens.”  Her eyes lifted up to his and she brushed her fingers over the scar absently.  He knew she wanted to ask more, but he didn’t want to answer her questions right now.  Reliving the memory of that final battle with the Templar turned Warden just before he’d joined with Justice was not high on his list of exciting sex talk.   “I’ll tell you about it someday,” he said.  “Just not tonight.”

 

“Alright,” she replied.  Her hands slid down, making the muscles of his stomach jump.  They came to rest on the waistband of his trousers, and he felt a tug as she pulled the ties open.  She hooked her fingers in the cloth to either side of his hips and pulled.

 

Anders shifted his hips, and his trousers gave up their tenuous grip and dropped to the floor.

 

“Oh… my.”

 

“It’s surprising how manly that kind of reaction can make a guy feel,” Anders said with a chuckle.

 

Tanwen touched the tip of her finger to the head of his erection, and he hissed in a breath.  When she ran her finger down the shaft, his head fell back on his shoulders.  Soft lips pressed against the head and his knees nearly collapsed.  He jerked away and grabbed her by the shoulder.  “No, love.”

 

“Why not?” Her voice was shaking, with a slight whine.

 

“Because, I want this to last, and that’s more than I can handle for right now.”  He pushed her backwards, so that she lay back on the bed again.  This time he undid her trousers, and pulled them down over her hips, revealing the dark shadow between her thighs.  She wiggled, trying to get free of her clothing.  He chuckled when they got caught on her boots.  “Oops,” he said, casting the spell to unlace her boots as he pulled them off one at a time.  Once he had her clothing completely removed, he knelt on the floor between her knees.

 

“Is that what they meant about magic serving man?” she asked in amusement.

 

“People don’t know what they’re missing out on, keeping mages locked up in a tower,” Anders replied with a smirk.

 

She giggled as he wrapped his hands around her bare ankles.  “I’ve heard you mages are good for some ‘electricity trick’, too.”

 

“Someone’s been talking to Isabela,” Anders said with a mock groan.  “She was very drunk.  Please don’t be disappointed that I’m not the sex god she described.”  He slid his hands up the inside of her calves, brushing his thumbs over the backs of her knees briefly before finishing the path up and spreading her legs.

 

“I’ll… keep that… in mind,” Tanwen panted as Anders placed soft kisses along the inside of her thigh.

 

He followed the line of muscle up to the juncture of her thigh, turned to inhale her scent, nuzzled the soft hair briefly before moving to the other thigh.  Every sound she made was like electricity on his senses.   _Not even a mage, but I can feel her magic_. Unable to resist anymore he wrapped his arms under her thighs, pulling her hips closer before he dipped his head and slid his tongue into the folds of her sex.

 

Tanwen’s body jerked and she cried out his name.  He moaned against her, lapping at her wet flesh.  The taste, the way her hips gyrated against his mouth.  He wanted to tell her how perfect she was, how much he loved her, but that would require him to stop.  That wasn’t going to happen until he felt her come against his mouth.

 

Her fingers came up and gripped handfuls of his hair again, pulling him closer.  “Anders,” she said urgently.  “Please… I’m…”  She gasped and whatever she said after that was incoherent, but he was pretty sure he heard “Maker” and “you bastard” somewhere in there.

 

Anders focused on the nub of sensitive nerves at her center, and swirled his tongue around in quick circles.  When she went stiff and still, he did his best to speed up.  He was rewarded with a very loud wail and the jerking of her hips as she finally spilled over the edge.

 

No longer able to hold back, Anders climbed onto the bed, shifting her limp body further up on the mattress so that he could get enough leverage to finish what he’d started.  He hooked one arm under her knee, and reached down to guide himself into the wet flesh he could still taste on his tongue.

 

She was tight.  Very tight, and…

 

Anders froze as he came up against a very thin barrier.  It suddenly registered in his feverish mind that Tanwen was holding perfectly still.  “You’re a virgin,” he said stupidly.

 

“Yes,” she answered stiffly.  She sounded out of breath, and despite the situation,

Anders found it incredibly sexy.

 

“You should have told me,” he scolded, then winced at the anger in his voice.

 

Tanwen had the temerity to laugh.  “If I had told you, what would you have done?”

 

“Sent you packing back to your mother!  Maker’s cock!  I could have hurt you!”  He moved to pull out, despite his body’s screaming denial, but strong legs wrapped around his waist, pulling him deeper, pressing him against the barrier.  It would only take the slightest nudge to break through it.

 

“Don’t you dare,” Tanwen growled.  “I want this.  I want you.  If you stop now, I’ll sic my dog on you.”  Her legs tightened, and her voice softened.  “Please Anders?”

 

No longer able to deny her or himself, he fell forward onto his hands.  The momentum was enough to bury him all the way inside her.  Her gasp of pain was muffled against his mouth as he kissed her.  He quickly cast a healing spell.  He couldn’t concentrate enough to target it, so he just put out an aura.  He did manage to hold still for a moment, letting her get used to the feel of him inside of her, but it didn’t last long.  His body was screaming at him to move, so he did.  Slowly at first, savoring the wet glide and squeeze.  But when she started moving her hips against his, he lost the ability to hold back.  His mouth moved to her ear, and he nipped at her earlobe as he began thrusting in earnest.

 

“I’ve wanted you since the first day I saw you,” he breathed against the shell of her ear.  “I have pictured you spread out on my desk, taking me like you are now.”  He thrust slightly harder and she moaned.  “I’ve imagined what you tasted like.”  He flicked his tongue against her ear to remind her where his mouth had just been.  “But it’s so much better than I imagined.”

 

“Anders…”

 

He was getting close, but he wanted her to come again, so he reached between their bodies and pressed his thumb against her sweet spot.  “I love the way you say my name,” he said.  “But I want to hear you scream it.”

 

Seconds later he got his wish as she came apart in his arms.  Her long nails dug into his back, and she cried out his name.  He wasn’t far behind her, but at the last moment, realizing her lack of experience, he pulled out and spent himself on her stomach.

 

Anders let himself sink down to lie flush against her body, although he kept most of his weight on his elbows to avoid crushing her.  They were both breathing heavily, and he savored the slide of her skin against his as they both began to calm down.  When he felt a little of his energy return, he leaned his head back and looked at her.  Once again her face was in shadow, and cursing the lack of light, he sent a fire spell into the empty hearth.

 

The room lit up with its red glow, and he smiled at her flushed and dazed expression.  Her lips were swollen, and he could already see the start of some whisker burns across her neck and the upper swell of her breasts.  Leaning his weight on one elbow, he ran his fingers over the marks.  “I supposed I should heal these for you, although it seems like a shame to do so,” he said softly.

 

“Why?” Tanwen asked curiously.

 

He kept his eyes on the marks he was still brushing tenderly.  “Well, they will get itchy if I leave them,” he teased.

 

Tanwen poked him in the side with one of her sharp nails.  “That’s not what I was asking,” she said.  He could hear the amusement in her voice, and it made him smile.

 

Maker but he loved her.  Having had a taste of her, he didn’t want to ever let her go.  His eyes flicked up to hers, although he kept his chin tilted down and away from her.  “I don’t want to erase the proof that you gave yourself to me.”

 

Her hand came up and cupped his chin, forcing him to face her fully.  “Then leave them,” she said seriously.

 

Anders stared into her eyes, seeking the truth.  Her expression was warm and languid.  Above all, he saw her acceptance.  “I love you,” he blurted suddenly.  “I have tried to hold back, but I don’t want to anymore.”

 

Tanwen’s smile practically lit the whole room.  “I love you, too.”

 

He closed his eyes against the fire of her smile.  He wanted to argue with her.  Tell her all the reasons their love was dangerous.  All the ways they could hurt each other.  But the words didn’t come.  Soft lips touched his, and he opened his eyes to look down at the woman who held his heart.  “You have no idea what those words mean to me.”

 

“Then show me,” Tanwen whispered.

 

So he did.


	6. Chapter 6

The months passed in a blur, giving truth to the old adage that time flies when you’re having fun.  Well it wasn’t always fun.  There never seemed to be a shortage of people who wanted Tanwen’s help.  Because of his duties at the clinic, Anders could not always be with her and there were many times she’d come to him beaten and bloody, usually trailed by the friends who had joined her latest endeavor.

 

At least she came back in one piece.  Some of the things she faced when he wasn’t around terrified him.  Like the time she faced off with a Varterral just to help Merrill with some silly quest to repair a broken mirror.  If Tanwen hadn’t glared at him when he started his tirade in front of the elven mage, he might have shown her how much power he could wield without any blood magic, and zapped Merrill right on the spot.

 

The Templar raids were still too frequent for them to start really helping mages escape the circle, although they helped several out of the city before they could get captured.  They’d even framed one Templar who had a particularly nasty reputation and gotten him severely punished.  Justice was pleased with these events, even if he was seething with impatience.  Anders wasn’t sure the spirit would ever learn the value of biding one’s time.

 

Despite the setbacks, and the occasional stresses when he couldn’t stay glued to Tanwen’s heels, he was extremely happy.  After paying the taxes on the Amell estate, they were able to get the place cleaned up properly and finally move in.  Her mother hadn’t even blinked when Tanwen had announced to Leandra that Anders was moving in, even though it was a complete surprise to him since they hadn’t really talked about it.

 

Leandra seemed to like him, which was a relief.  When Tanwen had insisted on bringing him home to meet her after their first night together, he’d nearly swallowed his tongue.  It had taken some time for Leandra to calm down after spending at least twenty minutes scolding Tanwen for disappearing so soon after getting home, but at the end of her tirade she’d wrapped her arms around her daughter and hugged her so tight Anders was afraid she might smother her.

 

That was when Leandra noticed him.  She gave him a suspicious look over Tanwen’s shoulder then loosened her hold enough that his fears about an accidental asphyxiation were assuaged, but she kept her arm protectively around Tanwen’s waist.

 

“Who’s your friend, dearest?” Leandra asked warily.

 

Anders smiled wryly.  He probably looked a wreck.  Tanwen was covered in dust, and her hair was a tangled mess down her back.  She looked like she’d been in a wrestling match, and he doubted he looked much better.  It was not how he imagined meeting his lover’s parent, but the humor wasn’t lost on him.

 

Tanwen’s warm smile calmed his nerves as she stepped away from Leandra to take his hand.  The older woman seemed reluctant to let go, but her daughter gave her no choice.  When Tanwen planted herself at his side and leaned into his arm, Leandra frowned in confusion.

 

“Mother, this is Anders.  You’ll be seeing a lot more of him because he’d going to move into the estate with us.”

 

Leandra’s face had transformed with joy.  Somehow Anders had expected outrage, or at least a little shock, but she was apparently quite the romantic and was ecstatic that her daughter had found someone to love.  She took him in as if he were her own lost son.  It felt strange and lovely because he’d forgotten what a mother’s love felt like.

 

He worried at first that she might be treating him as a replacement for Carver or Bethany, but he soon realized that Leandra had a large heart, and it included room for him.  She often came down to the clinic to assist him when she had the time despite the fact that he kept warning her of the dangers of wandering around Lowtown alone.  He only stopped protesting when she started bringing Barkley with her for protection, since Tanwen didn’t always have the mabari with her.

 

As time passed, the Templar raids slowed down, and Anders was finally able to contact Mistress Selby safely.  To his surprise, she had been quite busy despite the danger.  No one knew how she did it, but she had a connection inside the Gallows that let her get letters out.  One of the letters was addressed to Tanwen from Bethany.

 

Tanwen sat down abruptly on a crate near Mistress Selby’s stand as she read the letter.  She went pale and her hand dropped to her lap, holding the letter limply.

 

“Love, what is it?” he asked worriedly.  She didn’t answer, only lifted the letter for him to read.

 

_Dearest Sister,_

 

_You are I are definitely cut from the same stone.  I couldn’t just keep my head down and let my fate take me, so I started snooping around to find ways to escape.  Unfortunately what I found is quite terrifying.  There’s a templar, Sir Alrik, who is planning on asking Meredith to turn every mage in the Circle Tranquil.  He calls it The Tranquil Solution.  The man is sick, and the way he looks at some of us makes my skin crawl._

 

_I followed him one night.  He took a girl from her room, and to some tunnels below the Gallows.  He and some other Templars accused her of ‘trying to escape’ and they branded her right there!  But that is not the worst thing that was done to the poor girl that night.  I wanted to help, but I was alone and couldn’t face down three Templars without getting caught.  I am afraid to tell anyone what happened.  What if they don’t believe me, or worse, accuse me of trying to escape too?_

 

_I couldn’t explore the tunnels anymore because Alrik and his cronies would have caught me, but from the way they spoke, I think there is a way through them into Darktown.  I’m going to try and escape on the night of the next full moon.  If this letter reaches you, please come.  I am afraid._

_Yours,_

 

_B._

 

Anders felt his skin tighten, and his vision took on a blue tinge as his rage almost got away from him.  The Tranquil Solution.  It was an abomination.  He cursed low and violently.  Ser Alrik was the one who did the Tranquility Ritual on Karl, and Anders already hated him for that.  This was beyond unforgivable.

 

“What is it?”  Fenris demanded.  He took the letter and glared at it.  Tanwen had been teaching him to read, but he still struggled slightly deciphering the words.  “We have to get her out of there,” he finally growled as he handed the letter to Varric.

 

Anders’ eyebrows shot up in surprise.  Apparently Tanwen was right about Fenris’ feelings about her sister.  Would wonders never cease?

 

“Hawke, the full moon is tonight,” Varric said as he handed the letter back to her.

 

Tanwen took a deep breath, and Anders could see her mentally pulling herself together.  “Well then, we’d better get her out of there.”

 

“How?”  Fenris demanded gruffly.  “We don’t know where these tunnels are that she speaks of.”

 

“I know where they are,” Anders replied.  “They’re the same ones we’ve been using to smuggle mages out of the Gallows.  But it looks like they’ve been found by the Templars.  It’s probably what led them to start more raids and patrols recently.”

 

“Thank you, Mistress Selby,” Tanwen said as she stood.  The older woman nodded, her eyes concerned.  “Come on,” she said to the rest of them.  “We don’t have much time.”

 

Varric and Fenris both volunteered to come along, which surprised Anders as much as it pleased him.  Varric liked to keep neutral, and Fenris… well Bethany must be the exception to his prejudices.  He was more than keen on getting her out.

 

Anders led the small party down into the sewers under Darktown.  Lyrium smugglers also used the tunnels, but were no match for the four of them.  It was a delay though, and he could see Tanwen struggling with a growing panic.  They had been in the tunnels for a few hours when a scream caught their attention.

 

“Bethany!” Tanwen shouted as she raised her daggers and ran in the direction of the scream.

 

In the next open cavern they found three Templars, one of which was holding Bethany by the arms.  A younger woman was crouched on the floor, shaking in terror under the gaze of the Templar who spoke to her.

 

“Please, I haven’t done anything wrong!” the girl whimpered.

 

“That’s a lie.  What do we do to mages who lie?”

 

The girl began to cry.  “I just wanted to see my mum.  No one ever told her where they were taking me…”

 

Justice surged to the surface along with Anders’ rage.   _No!  We cannot!  This is_ their _place._

 

**_This must not be allowed._ **

 

 _We_ will _save her!_

 

Ser Alrik was still speaking; his oily voice smug as he insinuated what would happen to the young woman.  His gaze also took in Bethany, who hissed at him angrily.  All semblance of control snapped, and Justice broke through to the surface.

 

**_“You fiends will never touch another mage again!_ ** **”**

 

The fight that ensued was short, but bloody.  Justice felt the air hiss in and out of his lungs as he looked around for more Templars.  They lay dead at his feet, but his rage was still a bright flame inside of him.   ** _It is not enough_** _,_ he thought.   ** _They must pay for their crimes._**

 

Somewhere in the back of his mind he could feel Anders’ agreement.  The mage whose body he inhabited was reliving some of the horrors of his own past, and it only fueled Justice’s anger.    ** _“They will die!”_** he promised.   ** _“I will have every last Templar for these abuses!”_**

 

“They’re gone, Anders.  Calm down.”

 

Justice turned to look down into the blue eyes of Anders’ lover.   ** _“They will feel Justice’s burn,”_** he growled.

 

“Get away, demon!”

 

Justice swung around again and looked down at the human girl.  Demon?  He was no demon!  His rage became a blinding thing and he raised his staff, pulling power from the Fade.   **“ _I am Justice.  And no one shall stand between me and the punishment these Templars deserve.”_**

 

Anders could see the world through Justice’s eyes.  Could feel the staff in his hand, through Justice’s skin.   Magic pulsed through him, hotter than he remembered.  Fueled by rage.  He was drowning in it.

 

_This isn’t right._

 

**_It is Just!  We will have our Vengeance!_ **

 

_But… this is not justice...._

 

Justice ignored Anders’ voice, and stepped forward. Blue fire coalesced around his fists.  The girl cowered before them, and Anders watched helplessly.  Unable to stop the angry spirit.  He wanted to close his eyes, but Justice had control.

 

“Anders, stop!”

 

 _Tanwen._  Oh Maker, no.   _No!_

 

The rage began to fade, replaced by fear.  Anders pushed forward, struggling for control.  He forced the fingers of his hand open, dropping the staff.  Justice didn’t understand why Anders was stopping him; he only wanted to bring justice to the Templars who abused those they shouldn’t.

 

 _The Templars are dead!_ He visualized the girl, her eyes terrified, forcing Justice to realize that he’d almost taken vengeance on an innocent.

 

The spirit flinched, and relinquished control.  Anders found himself kneeling on the floor of the cavern, his head gripped in his hands.  He no longer felt the world through the filter of Justice’s body because it was once again his own.

 

For a moment he just breathed, willing his heart to slow.  When he was sure he had control once more, he lifted his head and looked around.  Fenris stood not too far away with his sword drawn, one hand held out in a protective gesture toward Bethany.  Varric was looking at him warily, but lowered Bianca slightly.

 

“You ok there, Blondie?” the dwarf asked.  His cheerful tone belied the caution in his gaze.

 

Anders didn’t answer because he didn’t know yet.  He turned his head and saw Tanwen kneeling on the floor nearby holding the sobbing mage.  She had her knives in her hands, and he realized that if he hadn’t gained control she would have fought him to protect the girl.

 

“No,” he whispered.  “Oh no.  I- I-” he stuttered as he pushed himself to his feet.  “I’m sorry…” His voice broke on the last word.  He looked around and saw the fear on everyone’s faces.  He had put it there, because of his rage.

 

He needed to get away from them.  He wasn’t safe to be around.  They were his friends, and he had almost attacked all of them.  He backed away from them slowly.

 

Tanwen’s eyes widened.  “Anders?  What are you doing?”

 

Instead of answering her, he turned on his heel and ran.  He was familiar with the tunnels, so he only barely paid attention to where he was going.  As long as it was away from them, away from the fear in their stares.

 

 _This is not what we wanted to be_ , he thought frantically.   _We were going to protect people, not hurt them._

 

He only sensed confusion and shame from the spirit.  He didn’t understand what had happened either.  The lines that defined justice were clear.

 

**_Aren’t  they?_ **

 

Lungs burning and limbs shaking, Anders slowed down.   _Maybe in the Fade my friend.  In this world, things are much more complicated._

 

**_Being human must be so difficult._ **

 

Anders laughed bitterly.  Finally, the spirit was beginning to understand.  He came to a stop, panting heavily, and looked around.  He was almost back to Lowtown.  Where should he go?  He considered going back to the clinic, but if he did, patients would inevitably show up and he was not in the right state of mind to take care of anyone.

 

He didn’t want to go back to the estate either.  Leaving was the best option.  Tanwen deserved better than the half mad monster he was becoming.  She also deserved to know the truth though, so he squared his shoulders and set off for the estate.  He would pack his things while he waited for her to get home.

 

His vision blurred as he turned to the secret tunnel under the estate, and he had to blink rapidly to clear his eyes.  He’d thought being stabbed in the chest was painful, but the idea of leaving Tanwen behind was infinitely worse.


	7. Chapter 7

Unfortunately, he wasn’t able to avoid anyone once he got into the house.  The secret passage led into the kitchen where Leandra was at the table slicing vegetables for a soup she was making.  It drove Bodahn crazy that she kept invading the kitchen, but she had learned to enjoy cooking during her years in Ferelden.

 

She didn’t seem to notice his reluctance to speak, and chatted at him about the dinner she would be attending later in the week, and how she no longer had a taste for rich Orlesian food, so she was going to enjoy her hearty Fereldan fare tonight.  It wasn’t until she got a whiff of the sewers on his clothing that he was finally able to escape.  She wrinkled her nose and scolded him for tracking dirt into the kitchen, then sent him off to bathe.

 

“But remove your boots first,” she called, brandishing a large spoon in his direction.  “There’s no need to leave tracks all over the floor for Bodahn to clean up.”

 

He did as she asked, and then hurried out of the kitchen.  In the hall, he ran into Bodahn, who blanched at how filthy he was.  Unlike Leandra he recognized the dried blood that was splattered all over Anders’ coat.  “Would you like me to take your coat to be cleaned Messere?” he asked delicately.

 

“Later, Bodahn,” Anders said curtly.  “I have something I need to do.”

 

The dwarf insisted on at least taking his boots, and Anders gave them over reluctantly.  He trudged up the stairs, dodging to the side as Sandal chased Barkley down the stairs.  He smiled slightly before resuming his climb.

 

Once in the room he shared with Tanwen, Anders stopped and looked around.  The room had a very masculine feel with its dark wood and red drapes and bed dressings.  The only feminine touches were in the beauty of the carved wood, and the soft carpets that muffled his steps as he crossed to the wardrobe where their clothing was hanging together.

 

He ran his hand over the coverlet of the bed.  He closed his eyes and a memory of the last time he was in it flashed through his mind.  Tanwen on her hands and knees before him, looking over her shoulder with languid blue eyes as she begged him to take her.  He’d almost spilled inside her, only managing to resist at the very last moment.  They’d fallen back to sleep with her on her stomach and his limbs draped over her as he’d only managed to barely roll to the side without collapsing completely on top of her.

 

He clenched his fingers into a fist, and backed away from the bed.  Moving to the wardrobe he opened it and pulled a knapsack out of the bottom, along with a spare pair of boots.  He began packing the bag, his vision blurring again with tears that he wiped away angrily.

 

A happy bark and a shout from Sandal warned him that Tanwen was home.  His breath hitched in his throat, because he wasn’t ready to face her yet.

 

“You left your staff,” Tanwen said quietly from the door of the room.  When he didn’t answer, but kept shoving shirts into the bag, she leaned it against the wall near the door and came up behind him.  “What are you doing?” she asked.

 

Her tone indicated that she knew, but he answered anyway.  “I nearly killed that girl,” he said flatly.  “It’s clear I can’t control myself.  I won’t stay here and endanger you.”

 

Tanwen put a hand on his shoulder.  “You wouldn’t hurt me.  And you didn’t hurt that girl.”

 

“Because you were there,” Anders argued.  “What if you hadn’t been?  You can’t babysit me every hour of every day.”

 

She had the temerity to laugh.  “So you propose to leave me, so I can’t babysit you at all?”

 

Anders shrugged her hand away from his shoulder.  “This is serious, Tanwen.”

 

Tanwen knelt down next to him and took his hands, making him to stop refolding the shirt that he held.  “Yes, this is serious,” she said softly.  “But you did stop in time.  You regained control, and hopefully Justice has learned a lesson.”  When Anders refused to look up at her, she let go of his hands, and cupped his face in both of hers, forcing him to meet her eyes.  “Please don’t leave.  We’ll work through this.”

 

“I’m an abomination,” he whispered brokenly.  It was a word he hated, but at the moment it was the only way he could describe how he felt.

 

Blue eyes regarded him solemnly.  “Well, you certainly smell like one,” Tanwen replied just as softly.  When Anders blinked at her in surprise, her eyes began to twinkle.  “And so do I, for that matter.”  Her thumbs caressed his cheeks, and her expression became serious again.  “You are not an abomination.  Justice is not a demon.  He’s just a confused spirit, trapped far away from everything he understands.  I know you will be able to teach him how to be a little more human.  I know what you are Anders.  You’re the man I love.  Spirit and all.”

 

Anders searched her eyes as he tried to process what she was telling him.  He felt Justice stir as well, although he didn’t recognize the emotion the spirit was feeling.

 

**_I’m not sure what it is either._ **

 

_That isn’t a good sign, my friend._

 

“You’re too quiet.  It’s making me nervous,” Tanwen said uncertainly.

 

Instead of answering her, Anders leaned forward and pressed his lips against hers.  “Thank you for having faith in us,” he whispered against her mouth.  He didn’t deserve it.  He didn’t deserve her.  But right now, he needed to believe that he did.  His conscience was screaming that he needed to leave her, that it was best for both of them, but he was weak.  If she was willing to forgive him, he would stay.

 

Tanwen brushed her nose over his.  “So, you won’t leave?”

 

“No.”

 

“Then can we go take a bath?  We reek.”

 

Anders laughed weakly, relief coloring the sound.  The anger he felt at himself was still there, but it no longer felt so suffocating.  He let her pull him to his feet and lead him by the hand into the bathing chamber.  There was a water pump right next to the stone basin that was set into the floor with just a small lip around the edge to prevent stray splashes from getting all over the floor.  Tanwen started it and turned to begin unbuckling Anders’ coat.  He returned the favor, removing her dagger harness, and by the time they were both naked the tub was full.

 

“It’s going to be cold,” Tanwen whispered as she stepped close and pressed her breasts against his chest.

 

Anders pressed his hips against her, rubbing his erection against her belly.  “That’s easy to fix,” he said with a smile.  A flick of his wrist, and steam began to rise from the water.  He backed toward the tub and stepped into it, then picked her up by the waist and lifted her in as well.

 

He sat down on the bench built into the tub, and pulled her down to straddle his lap.  He ran his fingers through her hair, picking the pins out and letting down the braids so that the ends floated in the water around her.  He picked up a nearby pitcher and filled it.  “Close your eyes,” he said before he poured the water over her hair.  Then he repeated the action for himself.

 

Droplets of water clung to Tanwen’s lashes, and her skin flushed pink from the heat of the bath.  Seeing her like this, Anders was struck by how lucky he was to have her.  She picked up the bar of soap and rubbed it between her hands until she’d built up a lather.  Gently she ran her fingers through his hair, rubbing the strands between her fingers and massaging his scalp.

 

Anders moaned and closed his eyes.  Her hands ran down over the back of his neck and over his shoulders, then swept forward to rub soap over his chest, under his arms.  Once she’d washed every part of him that she could reach above the water, she used the pitcher to rinse him off.

 

Anders picked up the soap, and performed the same service for her.  Washing her hair took longer of course because when it was down it brushed the swell of her buttocks.  He spent extra time on her breasts, tweaking her nipples and savoring the happy sounds she made under his hands.  Once she was rinsed, he wrapped one hand around her neck and pulled her forward for a kiss.  His other hand grabbed her thigh and shifted her until his erection was teasing at her entrance.

 

Tanwen slid her tongue into his mouth as she pushed her hips down, taking him fully inside of her.  She began to rock on top of him, and he slid his hand up to the globe of her ass and squeezed.  She began to move faster, and harder, and he could feel himself coming close to the edge.

 

His hand slid back to her hip in preparation of lifting her off of him, she grabbed it before he could.  She entwined her fingers with his and pulled his hand up to press between her breasts.

 

“Tanwen,” Anders said with a gasp against her mouth.  “I’m going to come… we can’t…”

 

“Yes we can,” she replied, her voice husky.

 

“But-“

 

She caught his mouth with her own and rotated her hips.  Anders cried out against her lips, as the motion brought him to completion.  Being inside her while he came was mind blowing and his hips bucked wildly beneath her, and when she reached her own orgasm he could feel her muscles milking him.

 

When the waves of pleasure finally stopped crashing through him, he sighed and dropped his head back on his shoulders.  Tanwen brushed soft kisses over his jaw and neck, nuzzling him while he petted her hair. “You could get pregnant,” he said softly.

 

It was only a possibility of course.  He didn’t know if the taint in his blood would affect his ability to have children.  But if it did happen… he pictured Tanwen sitting in a chair in front of a fire, nursing a child with her black hair and blue eyes, and his heart sped up.  It was a beautiful thought, but terrifying at the same time.  Especially after the events of the night.  He was dangerous, and a child would be so fragile...

 

“Isabela gave me some herbs,” Tanwen murmured against his collarbone.  “I asked her why you kept… stopping early.  She gave me some advice, and told me how to make moon tea.”

 

Anders felt a wave of relief, and told himself the twinge near his heart was not disappointment.  “Do you discuss our sex life with her often?” he asked to hide his reaction.

 

“She taught me that one trick you love so much,” she said teasingly.  She lifted her head and gave him a worried look.  “Do you mind?”

 

“Well I did, until you told me she taught you _that_ trick,” Anders said with a chuckle.  “And to be honest, I’m glad she brought up the moon tea.  I’m sorry I didn’t suggest it myself.”

 

Tanwen looked away shyly.  “Would it be so bad if I did get pregnant?”

 

Anders lifted his head and shifted so he sat up straighter.  He wrapped his arms around her and pulled her so close that they shared each other’s breath.  All he could see was the blue of her eyes.  “We live dangerous lives, my love.  I fear bringing a child into this mess.”

 

Tanwen nodded, but the wrinkle between her brows didn’t go away.  “You’re right of course.  Maybe someday things will be better?”

 

Anders brought his hands up and cupped her jaw.  He pressed a kiss to her swollen lips.  “Maybe someday.”

 

She smiled and wrapped her arms around his neck to deepen the kiss.  Anders returned the embrace warmly, and prayed that she would never catch him in that lie.

 

The water was beginning to cool by the time they decided to move again.  While they were drying themselves, it occurred to Anders that he had no idea what had happened after he’d run away.  “Is Bethany here?” He asked as he wrapped a bath sheet around his waist.

 

Tanwen froze in the act of drying her long hair.  “No.  She’s going to stay in the Circle.”

 

“What?”  Anders asked incredulously.  

 

She sighed and wrapped the towel around her hair and stood up to face him, distracting him momentarily with her nudity.  “She wants to help with the underground.  As an agent on the inside.”

 

Anders threw his hands up in the air in exasperation and then planted them on his hips.  “Does she have any idea how dangerous that will be?”

 

“My words exactly!” Tanwen exclaimed.  She started pacing back and forth in agitation, waving her arms about as she spoke.  “Varric and Fenris backed me up, but she wouldn’t listen!  She says that if it’s ok for me to put myself in danger, then I have no room to tell her how to lead her life!”

 

Anders began to laugh.  “Well she has a point, love.”

 

Tanwen stopped pacing and glared at him.  “She’s my baby sister.  It’s my job to protect her, and I can’t do that if she takes foolish risks.”

 

“Love, you can’t protect her forever.  She is a grown woman.  She’ll make her own decisions.”

 

Crossing her arms over her breasts, Tanwen huffed in disgust. “That’s what _she_ said.”  She sighed and relaxed, her frown fading.  “And it is a perfectly valid argument.”  She pinned him with a sideways stare, and one side of her lips quirked up.  “The same one I keep using on you, as a matter of fact.”

 

Anders chuckled and picked up another bath sheet to wrap around her.  “Well then I understand how you feel then, because you never listen to me when I’m trying to protect you.”

 

Tanwen smiled at him as he started rubbing her body through the cloth.  “You should have seen Fenris.  He was so upset.”

 

“Really?  But she’s a mage.”

 

“Hm, yes.  But he likes her.”

 

Anders frowned.  “You keep saying that, but I just can’t believe it.”

 

“You weren’t there to see him kiss her when he got too frustrated to speak with her anymore.”  She grinned widely at his shocked expression.  “Yes, he did.  He kissed her, told her to be safe, and then stalked off in the most grand fashion.  I could practically see Varric’s fingers twitching for his quill and parchment.”

 

“Huh,” Anders said with a grin.  “Will wonders never cease.”

 

“See?” she said, her eyes sparkling merrily.  “He’s not such a prat after all.”

 

Anders gave a snort.  “I wouldn’t go that far.”  He picked Tanwen up, and began carrying her towards the door.  “But I really don’t want to talk about him any more.  Let’s go get some more use out of your moon tea.”

 

Tanwen laughed all the way to the bedroom.


	8. Chapter 8

“Is Hawke alright?”  Aveline asked Anders as she sat down next to him with a tankard of ale in each hand, one of which she passed to him.

 

Anders accepted the ale with a nod of thanks.  “Of course she is.  Why do you ask?”

 

The Guard Captain shrugged, the gesture seemed smaller without her armor even if her personality didn’t.  “She just seems kind of…. off, somehow.  I don’t know.”

 

Aveline was right, although he couldn’t pinpoint what was wrong either.  Tanwen was being a little quieter than usual.  She seemed tired lately, but it could be that she was because she was being pulled in many different directions.  Her mother wanted her to attend dinner parties and hobnob with nobles.  She was helping with the mage underground, and of course she still couldn’t say no to anyone who asked for her assistance.

 

Tonight they were planning on relaxing.  Varric was already dealing the cards for Wicked Grace, and Isabela was whispering things in Merrill’s ear.  The elf was giggling at whatever she was saying, and Anders suspected it was something dirty.  Fenris sat at the far end of the table with a bottle of wine at his elbow, not really participating, but not as separate as he wanted to appear.  Tanwen sat next to Varric, smiling as she accepted her cards, but her skin was pale and he could see she had dark circles under her eyes.

 

Anders frowned.  “She hasn’t said anything to me,” he said to Aveline.

 

Aveline pinned him with her best Captain’s Stare.  “She may not realize she’s ill.  You know how she can be.”

 

“I will talk to her,” he said softly.  “Thank you.”

 

Aveline nodded and turned her attention to the game, while Anders pondered what could be wrong.  Tanwen seemed like she was having a good time, so he decided to speak to her about it later.  He nursed his ale, and laughed with his friends.  It felt strange to have friends again.  Comforting, though.  Even Justice enjoyed their company.  He missed the Wardens.

 

A knock at the suite door brought their attention around.  An elf-woman stood in the entrance, looking shaken and very much like she had been crying.

 

“Arianni?”  Merrill said in surprise.  “What are you doing here?”

 

Anders recognized her.  They had rescued her son from slavers and helped him find a home among Merrill’s clan.

 

Arianni stepped a little further into the room.  She looked around nervously until her eyes came to rest on Tanwen.  “Please,” she said.  “It’s Feynriel… he needs your help.”

 

He knew right away Tanwen would say yes.  She always did, and she had a soft spot for young mages.

 

The Keeper was already in the Alienage with Feynriel by the time they reached Arianni’s home.  The boy looked like he was only sleeping, but his eyelids flickered quickly.  Anders had seen it before.  He was definitely in the Fade.  It brought Anders bad memories because the last time he’d seen a young mage stuck in the Fade, a Templar had run her through.

 

He gave Tanwen a worried look as she spoke softly with the Keeper.  Now that he’d noticed the pallor of her skin, he couldn’t unsee it.  He wanted to talk her out of this, to take her home and make her go to sleep, but he also wanted very badly to help the boy.

 

“I’m surprised you’re letting her do this,” Isabela said from next to him.  She’d volunteered to come along because she was always up for a new adventure.  Merrill would be going too because it would be easier to send another mage into the Fade.

 

Anders snorted.  “As if I could stop her.  You know as well as I that she has a mind of her own, and I am not her master.”

 

“So she’s the one on top every time, huh?” Isabela teased.  She chuckled richly when Anders rolled his eyes, but her eyes became serious.  “She doesn’t look like she feels well.  I just think you should talk to her about it.”

 

Anders’ head swung back towards Tanwen.  She looked very tired and pale.  “She hasn’t said anything to me,” Anders said to Isabela absently.  “Thank you.  I’ll find out what’s wrong.”

 

“I’m sure you will,” Isabela said, surprising him with the seriousness of her tone.

 

He would have to wait until later to find out more though.  They were ready to get started.  The ritual was a lot simpler than he’d anticipated considering how much lyrium it took for Circle mages to send someone into the Fade.  Unfortunately he didn’t get to see the full spell because he was soon surrounded by the nimbus of the dream realm.

 

It had been many years since he’d been in the Fade like this, since his Harrowing actually, but he could tell something was different this time.  He felt disconnected, vague.  And when his body moved, he realized why.

 

Justice took a deep breath.  “It feels good to breath the air of the Fade again,” he said softly.

 

Tanwen looked up at him in surprise.  “Anders?”

 

Justice looked down at her and tilted his head.  The last time he’d fully seen her, he had been overcome by rage.  Now that he could examine her calmly he could see why Anders was so overcome with emotion when he saw her.  She glowed very brightly in the Fade.  Even though she was not a mage, her spirit was strong.  It was… he struggled for a word for something he didn’t fully understand.

 

 _Lovely.  Beautiful.  Gorgeous,_ Anders supplied.

 

Justice agreed.  The emotion that came with the words matched what he saw before him.  He realized that she was looking at him expectantly.  “I am Justice,” he said.  “Anders has told you of me.”

 

“You’re Justice?”  Isabela said from nearby.  “Somehow I thought you’d be taller.”

 

Justice frowned at the other woman.  He didn’t understand the amusement coming from within him.  “I have no form here, woman.  You picture me this way.”

 

“That’s odd then,” Merrill said as she stepped up beside Isabela.  “You look just like Anders… only more glowy.  Not that I think that’s a bad thing,” she quickly added.  “Anders is very handsome-” her eyes flicked to Tanwen nervously.  “Not that he’s my type or anything, but-”

 

Isabela took Merrill’s hand and bumped the smaller woman gently with her shoulder.  “Calm down, Kitten.  Hawke knows what you mean.”

 

“Well I’m just saying,” Merrill continued more firmly, and a little defensively.  “He’s not quite Justice, is he?  They’re one being now.  I just find it interesting that he still holds Anders’ form.”

 

Tanwen had her hand over her mouth and her eyes were sparkling with amusement, but she didn’t laugh.  Justice frowned deeper as he tried to understand what the joke was.  Deciding he probably wouldn’t understand even if it was explained to him he chose ignore the matter.  “We mustn’t waste any time,” he intoned.  “Let us find the boy.”

 

“I think that’s a brilliant idea,” Isabela said.  She looked around nervously.  “This may be more of an adventure than I originally bargained for.”

 

As they explored the Fade looking for the boy, Justice kept finding his attention pulled back to the three women.  When he had been helping the citizens of Black Marsh, he had gotten used to the auras of humans in the Fade, but it had been so many years that he’d forgotten how beautiful they could be.  Tanwen especially.  He studied her, trying to determine what was different.  The more he concentrated, the more it seemed that there was two of her.  Only one was smaller and dimmer.

 

“I don’t like this place,” Merrill said nervously, breaking his concentration.  “Not that I like being in the Fade all that much in general.  I just don’t like being in the Gallows.  I keep expecting a Templar to jump out and shout Boo!”

 

Tanwen smiled wanly.  “I’d prefer a Templar to a demon,” she said.  “They’re much easier to poke with knives.”

 

“Do not speak of demons-” Justice started.

 

A voice, low and sleepy sounding cut him off.  “Or they shall appear.”

 

The group stopped in what appeared to be the Gallows Common and looked around nervously.  Justice focused on the sloth demon hiding nearby.  “Show yourself, Demon,” he growled.

 

“Ah, brother.  You have no reason to be so angry,” the demon said as it materialized.

 

Justice gritted his teeth, a motion he’d learned from Anders.  “We are not brothers.”

 

The demon’s voice contained a hint of sarcastic humor.  “As you say, then.”  It turned its attention to Tanwen.  “I am Torpor,” it said in its grindingly slow voice.  “And I have a proposition for you.”

 

Tanwen pulled her daggers.  “I do not deal with demons,” she said firmly.  Justice nodded at her in approval.  The conviction in her voice made him proud of her.  She glanced at him quickly and to his surprise he could see a hint of fear in her expression.  She stepped closer to him as if for safety, which made him feel…. something.  He didn’t have the words, but he was glad that she turned to him for protection.

 

Now that she was closer, he could feel the duality of her aura and he frowned.  It was dangerous to ignore the demon, but there was something wrong.  It was almost as if she was possessed, but not.

 

“Maybe I don’t want to deal with you,” Torpor was saying to Tanwen.  “I could make a deal with _him_ ,” it said gesturing toward her belly.

 

Justice’s head whipped toward the demon, then back to Tanwen.  That was it.  She didn’t have two auras.   ** _She holds another inside her!_**

 

_WHAT?!_

 

Justice flinched at Anders’ reaction.   ** _What is it?  What does this mean?_**  Instead of an answer he got a rush of anger and fear that he didn’t understand.  Along with only one thought:

 

_Protect her protect her protect her…._

 

_SO I CAN KILL HER FOR PUTTING HERSELF IN DANGER!_

 

Justice was certain that last part was not serious.

 

“I don’t think so,” Tanwen said.  It was obvious she knew what the sloth demon was referring to.  She flicked another glance at Justice, but otherwise kept her blades ready.

 

Torpor sighed tiredly.  “I had wished to do this the easy way, but I see that you will not cooperate.”  Claws developed from the darkness of its twisted body.  “I do not wish to miss out on such a delicious opportunity,” he intoned as he lashed out.

 

Tanwen’s blades came up just in time, but she was no match for a demon on her own.  The fight took all four of them because even sloth demons could move quickly when they wished to.  By the time it was over they were all exhausted.  Justice healed their injuries, knowing that they weren’t real but that their human minds could not always accept that truth when their eyes saw something different.

 

Anders’ presence had gone silent with terror when one of Torpor’s claws had sliced open the leather of Tanwen’s thin armor just above her stomach.  Seeing now that it was healed, Justice felt the relief bleed straight into anger again.  He couldn’t take the time to examine the situation though, because Tanwen and the other women were moving towards a door, and Justice could sense even more powerful demons nearby.  He would protect Tanwen and trust that he would find out what was going on eventually.

 

…

 

When the demons had been banished, and the boy Feynriel saved, Anders’ eyes flew open.  He turned his head on the mat he occupied to pin Tanwen with a glare.  She avoided his gaze as she sat up.  The way she cupped her lower belly protectively confirmed for him that not only was she pregnant, but that she knew.

 

His hand shot out and grabbed the wrist of her other hand.  Just to be sure, he sent his senses inside her.  He closed his eyes as he felt the tiny flutter of life.  “You knew,” he said angrily through gritted teeth as he also sat up.

 

“Anders, I can explain.”

 

“You _knew_ ,” Anders growled as he scrambled to his feet and glared down at Tanwen.  “And yet you went into the Fade anyway.  How long have you known?”

 

Tanwen’s gaze dropped to her lap and she twisted her fingers together nervously.  “For a few days.”

 

Merrill who sat in the cradle of Isabela’s thighs a few feet away blinked teary red eyes at the two of them.  “What’s going on?” she asked.

 

Isabela continued to stroke Merrill’s hair.  She was obviously shaken by what had happened in the Fade, although she was hiding it better than the elf in her arms.  “Anders,” she said warningly.  “Calm down.”

 

Anders turned slowly to face her as realization struck him.  “You.  You also knew.”

 

Tanwen reached out and tugged at the edge of his coat.  “Don’t be angry.  I asked her not to tell.”

 

He took a breath to lambaste her with his rage, but he didn’t want to fight with her while there were others in the room.  Checking himself, he ran his hands through his hair.  “I’m sorry,” he said to the room in general.  “I need to go.”

 

Tanwen’s eyes widened in panic.  “Anders wait!”

 

He held a hand out.  “No.  I just can’t right now.  No.”  The pain in her expression tore at him, but he needed to get away from her and calm down.

 

He could feel Justice’s confusion as he moved away from the alienage.  Anders’ thoughts and feelings were flashing too quickly for him to understand.  He could barely follow them himself.  He just had to keep moving, had to keep one step ahead of the fear.

 

Once Anders reached his clinic, he came to a halt in the center.  He looked around, and tried to remember something that didn’t increase his terror.  But if he looked at that cot, he remembered the boy whose father brought him in to get his broken leg mended.  When he looked at the bed next to it, he remembered the young mother who couldn’t produce milk for her child because she was undernourished.

 

Spinning away from the memories, his eyes fell on the surgery table where he’d lost a young mother and her unborn child because the baby was stuck and he didn’t have time to save her because her husband had been too afraid of having her tainted by an evil mage.  He walked over to the table and ran his fingers over the stained wood.  What if Tanwen couldn’t give birth because the child was breech?  What if the child came early?

 

His mind shied away from those thoughts, and he started to pace.

 

**_Tanwen is with child?_ **

 

Anders felt Justice’s shock as his own.   _Yes,_ Anders thought.   _Tanwen is with child.  My child._

 

_Our child._

 

He wasn’t sure whether the thought was his own or Justice’s.  His knees went weak and he collapsed onto the floor.  “Oh Maker,” he said out loud, his voice laced with fear and awe.  “We’re going to be a father.”


	9. Chapter 9

Bodahn opened the door, and if looks could kill, Anders would have been a pile of ash on the doorstep.  Honestly, he’d never seen the dwarf so angry.  He regretted not coming up through the secret passage, but after the way he’d treated Tanwen, he wasn’t sure he’d be welcome in the estate.  It wouldn’t be right to assume so, anyway.

 

“I assume from the look you’re giving me that Tanwen is home?”  Anders asked quietly.

 

The dwarf nodded and stepped back to let him in.  Anders thanked him softly, and moved further into the house.  He looked to the fireplace in the main hall, but Barkley wasn’t there.  A bark from the top of the stairs caught his attention.  The mabari was staring down at him from the top step.  He didn’t look happy, but he wasn’t growling and snarling either.

 

Being a cat person, Anders could only assume that was a good sign.

 

“Hey Barkley,” he said as he put his foot on the bottom step.  “I come in peace?”

 

Barkley huffed at him and turned to walk towards the master bedroom.  Anders assumed that was an invitation so he climbed the stairs.  The closer he got to the door, the more nervous he became.

 

The door was open slightly and Barkley nosed his way in, pushing it open enough for Anders to enter.  He peeked around the door and what he saw made him hate himself.  Leandra was sitting on the bed with Tanwen in her arms.  The firelight illuminated the tears on her face, but he couldn’t see her daughter.

 

Tanwen had her hair down, and the black waves hung down over her face.  Leandra was rocking her back and forth slightly, whispering something that he couldn’t hear, and probably shouldn’t.

 

Anders pushed the door even further open, and the squeak of the hinges brought their heads up.  Tanwen’s eyes were dry, but the hollow look she gave him nearly broke him.

 

 _I’m a monster,_ he thought.  He didn’t say anything, but he did step further into the room.

 

“Do you want me to ask him to leave, dear?” Leandra asked, and her tone told him he’d better step gingerly around her for a while.  She was a very protective mother, which is probably where her daughters had learned to take care of everyone around them.  Tanwen only shook her head and sat up, pushing her hair away from her face.

 

Leandra got up from the bed, and kissed Tanwen on the forehead.  “Then I’ll leave you two to talk,” she said.  She turned and walked straight up to Anders.  She poked him in the chest with a finger and glared at him.  “I don’t know what this is about, but you had better fix it young man.  Tanwen isn’t the only one who knows how to cut a man’s hide into strips,” she hissed.  With a twitch of her skirts and an elegant sidestep around him, she left the room.  He winced as she slammed the door behind her.

 

“She’s not serious.”

 

Anders turned back from watching Leandra to leave to see Tanwen sitting on the edge of the bed.  Her legs hung over the edge, not anywhere near touching the floor, and she sat slouched while she clicked her nails against each other.  He stayed where he was, waiting for her to speak again.  When she didn’t, he took a step forward.  “Tanwen, I-“

 

“I’m sorry I didn’t tell you,” she blurted at the same time, halting him in his tracks.  “I was afraid of how you would react.”

 

Anders swallowed thickly.  “I can explain-“he started, but she cut him off again.

 

“I know you didn’t want a baby,” she said softly.  She tilted her head further away from him, hiding behind her hair.  “I’m not sure why the moon tea didn’t work.  I followed all of Isabela’s instructions.  I’m so sorry.”  She shuddered, and looked up at him.  Now he could see the tears running down her face.  “If you want, I can… I can… terminate it.  I’ve heard-“

 

Anders felt his heart stop.  “No!”

 

Tanwen jumped and tilted her head slightly away from him, looked at him warily.

 

He didn’t even know what to say.  The idea that she would end her pregnancy because she thought _he_ would want her to.  That was just wrong.  Just…  “No,” he said again, every bit as adamantly, if with less volume.  He quickly crossed the room and knelt at her feet.  He took both her hands in his and pressed kisses to the scarred knuckles of each before he looked up and met her eyes.  “That is _not_ what I want,” he hissed.

 

“But-“

 

“No buts,” Anders interrupted.  “I’m sorry I yelled at you earlier.  It wasn’t because I was angry about the pregnancy.”  He paused and took a deep breath.  “Not that it doesn’t scare the knickers off of me,” he added on an exhale.  “I was upset that you knew you were pregnant and yet still risked your life going into the Fade.”

 

Tanwen’s eyes searched his for the truth in his words.  “I had to help.  Anyone else would have just stuck a blade in his heart, but he just needs someone to teach him.”

 

Anders reached up and cupped her face, wiping the tears from her cheek with his thumb.  “You are the most amazing woman I have ever met,” he murmured.  He wished he could have met her father so he could thank the man for creating her.  He was definitely going to hug Leandra the next time he spoke to her.  “I love you.  And as terrifying as the thought of having a child is-“his voice cracked and he had to clear his throat a few times before he could continue.  “You know what they do with children born in the Circle, don’t you?”

 

Tanwen shook her head.  Anders had to look down.  He studied the scars and calluses on her hands while he spoke.  “If they let the mother even give birth to the child,” he paused at Tanwen’s gasp.  “They take it away when it’s born, and give it to the Chantry to raise.”

 

“I’m sorry,” Tanwen said.  “For suggesting-“

 

Anders surged up and kissed her.  He didn’t want to hear the words.  Her lips trembled under his, and he mentally kicked himself for making her worry the way he had.  “I’m sorry,” he said against her mouth.  “I’m so sorry.”

 

Tanwen kissed him back in between words.  “I’m sorry I waited to tell you.”

 

“It’s all right.  We’re going to be all right,” Anders said, his words as urgent as the kisses.  Suddenly he pulled back, holding her by the shoulders.  “Maker, Tanwen.  We’re going to have a baby.”

 

Tanwen stared back at him, and he could see that this was the first time the thought was really sinking in for her too.  “We are going to have a baby,” she repeated slowly.

 

“Our baby,” Anders said.  He could feel tears prickling in the corners of his eyes.  “I never thought I’d have my own family.”  He laid his head down in her lap, and wrapped his arms around her hips.  “What if I mess it up?”

 

Tanwen brushed her fingers through his hair, pulling the leather tie free so that she could more easily run her nails over his scalp.  The touch made goose bumps run down the back of his neck and over his arms.  “What if _I_ mess it up?” she countered with a shaky laugh.  “I’ve never been a mother before, you know.”

 

“You had parents who loved you and took care of you.  You have an example to follow,” Anders mumbled against her thigh.  He tried not to think of his last memory of his parents.  Of his mother crying silently, but not looking at him.  His father looking on with disgust.

 

“I guess we’ll figure it out together,” Tanwen said.

 

They would, Anders realized.  Not everyone knew how to be a parent when they first started.  But he felt better knowing that he’d be figuring out how to do it with Tanwen.  “Can I ask you a favor?” he said as he began nuzzling her thigh.

 

Tanwen hummed her consent, and he nipped her through the linen pants she wore.  “Pregnancy can be dangerous.  It would make me feel much better if you… relaxed… for a while.  Take a break from doing favors for everyone.”

 

The muscle under his mouth tightened, and her fingers stopped brushing through his hair.  “But what about the mage underground?”

 

“It can run without us for a little while,” he said.  He expected a protest from Justice, but the spirit was quiet inside of him.  He hadn’t really been active since Anders had realized that he was going to be a father.  It made him wonder how Justice felt about it.  They were entwined, but sometimes he could also feel how they were still separate.  This was one of those times.

 

“Alright,” Tanwen said as he continued to kiss a path up her thigh.  “But not forever.”

 

No, not forever.  He could never abandon the mages.  Even if by some miracle Justice were to leave his head, he could not unlive the last few years.  He could not be the selfish boy he was before he’d joined the Wardens.  “At least until we’re grandparents,” he teased.  Tanwen laughed.  She understood what he meant of course.  She was his perfect partner.

 

He made love to her slowly, making sure to convey that he loved her and that he wasn’t upset about the baby.  If sometimes he trembled when he touched her, it was equal measures of awe and fear.  He couldn’t deny that he was terrified, but he would hide it from her.  Right now, she needed his strength.

 

When she fell asleep in his arms, he couldn’t sleep for a long time.  He watched the flames in the hearth die down as his mind raced.  As a mage in Kirkwall, he was always in danger, and he would be putting his family at risk.  He wanted to talk to Tanwen about leaving, but he knew that neither of them would.  She had built her life here, and they both had the underground.  As much as he feared the consequences of staying, he knew that he could not give up his cause.

 

Slowly drowsiness began to overtake him.  At the moment they were safe, warm in their bed.  He let go of the worry for now, and fell asleep.

 

Justice opened his eyes and looked around the room.  He very rarely took the reigns when Anders was sleeping, as he still felt like a guest in the body they shared.  It frustrated him sometimes, since he could remember having a body to himself and although it was rotten and decrepit, it had been good to be a part of the world.  But he was grateful to Anders for sharing with him, even if they didn’t always agree how to go about things.

 

He tilted his head and looked down at the woman sleeping in his arms, illuminated with the glow from his eyes.  Carefully he shifted, pulling his arm from beneath her.  He sat up and lifted the blanket away from her body so that he could see her belly.  His understanding of human biology was vague, so he had spent his quiet time sifting through Anders’ knowledge.

 

He ran the tips of his fingers over the skin below her navel and marveled at the idea that there was a spark of life beneath her flesh.  Spirits merely existed, and if they were “born”, it was something that had happened so long ago, he had forgotten it.

 

Gently, he leaned down and laid his head on Tanwen’s belly and tried to listen for the life inside of her.  He could hear his own heartbeat in his ear, but nothing from her.  Tentatively he sent tendrils of power through her, until he felt the spark, the aura that he had seen in the Fade.  It was tiny and fragile like a wisp that could be destroyed with a thought.

 

It seemed to be aware of him, and he sensed the same cheerfulness that wisps displayed when someone paid attention to them.  The sense of familiarity was comforting.  He relaxed, using Tanwen’s belly as a pillow.

 

_Our child._

 

Anders had thought it, and at the time Justice had thought he was only referring to himself and Tanwen.  Now he realized though that the mage had been referring to him as well.  It was part of the fear and awe in the thought.  Biologically the child would only have two parents, but spiritually it had three.  Was that even possible?  Justice didn’t know.  But listening to the chirping ‘sounds’ from the life inside of the woman that he had come to care for as much as he cared for Anders, he knew that he liked the idea of being involved in the creation of this tiny being.

 

He closed his eyes to rest them, cutting off the blue glow and allowing the room to grow dark.  But he stayed at the surface while Anders slept, so he could watch over their family.


	10. Chapter 10

Anders walked into the library to find Tanwen sitting at a table looking at a map that Fenris was showing her.  The elf had become a regular fixture at their home since taking over her duties in the mage underground.  The offer had surprised them both considering his dislike for mages, but Bethany had worked another kind of magic over him and he trusted her judgment on those who she helped escape the tower.

 

Fenris looked up at his entry and gave him a nod of greeting.  When they had first met years ago, he would have sneered angrily at Anders’ presence but they had become something very close to friends.  At the very least they trusted each other, although he had been worried that Templars would come pounding on the door when Fenris started spending a lot of his free time with that Starkhaven prince from the Chantry.  Apparently his feelings for Bethany extended to Tanwen and by default to Anders.  He talked Sebastian out of turning him in to the Circle.  He’d even stood up for Merrill despite the fact that he couldn’t stand that she was a blood mage.

 

It was amazing how love could change a person.

 

Tonight he would be going with Fenris to meet Bethany.  Tanwen didn’t like being completely left out, so she insisted on knowing their plans ahead of time.  Fenris had come early to talk to her about it because Anders had been down in the clinic longer than usual tonight due to a young boy from the Coterie coming to him for help.  Unfortunately it had been a particularly nasty wound to heal.

 

He walked over to the table and kissed his wife on the forehead by way of greeting.  It still felt strange to think of her like that, although the ceremony had been held months ago.  When he’d expressed the thought to Leandra over tea one day while Tanwen was napping, she’d laughed and patted his hand fondly while she told him that she had those feelings for the length of her entire marriage.

 

Tanwen smiled up at him before turning back to the map.  “Are you sure the new route will work?” she asked Fenris.

 

“I’ve been down there already to make sure the way is clear,” Fenris answered.  “Bethany cast a misdirection spell which should keep out the smugglers for a while.”

 

She frowned and rubbed absently at her stomach as she stared at the map.  “I just don’t have a good feeling about this,” she said.

 

Fenris glanced up and met Anders’ eyes when he spoke, including him in the conversation.  “The risk will be from the Templars.  Bethany is having more difficulty sneaking past them.”

 

“Meredith is cracking down hard,” Anders said.  “We can’t continue using the old route, love.  You know that.”

 

Tanwen sighed.  “I know.  Just promise me if things go bad you get yourselves out quick.  And Bethany too.  There have been so many more made tranquil lately and I just can’t stand the thought…” She trailed off and leaned her head against Anders hip.

 

“You have my word,” Fenris said softly.  He gave her one of his rare smiles and reached out to take her hand.  “I’ll even save your abomination if I need to.”

 

Anders no longer bristled at the term, although he did glare at the elf just for effect.  “Very funny,” he said.  He looked at the clock up on the mantel.  “We need to get going.  We’re supposed to meet Varric in less than an hour.”

 

Tanwen gave a frustrated growl.  “I wish I weren’t the size of a bronto, so I could go with you.”

 

Anders rolled his eyes.  Lately she had been starting to waddle, and it drove her crazy considering how nimble she normally was.  He knew she felt bloated and achy, but he couldn’t help but think she was the most beautiful thing he’d ever seen.  That morning when they had bathed together, she had tried to hide herself from him with a bath sheet, but he’d pulled it away and knelt before her to kiss her stomach.  He’d pressed his ear against the taut skin and listened for the tiny heartbeat until she’d relaxed and ran her fingers through his hair.

 

It awed him that he could love someone so much.  It was terrifying.

 

Tanwen frowned at him suspiciously.  “What is that look for?” she asked.

 

Anders refocused his eyes and leaned down and kissed her on the lips.  “You’re almost done,” he said with a smile.  “Just a few more weeks.”

 

“Mmhm,” she hummed noncommittally, but she smiled back and some of the worry faded from her eyes.

 

As he and Fenris were walking away from the estate a few minutes later, the elf turned to him curiously.  “If she’s so close to her time, why are you leaving her alone?”

 

Anders sighed.  He was torn over the issue.  He and Justice both wanted to stay home with Tanwen to take care of her as she got further along in the pregnancy.  She was the one who wouldn’t let him stop.  “She’s not alone,” he said using her own words to convince Fenris and try and keep himself convinced as well.  “She has her mother and Bodahn.”

 

Fenris shook his head.  “It doesn’t seem enough.”

 

No, it didn’t.  “After tonight, we’ll take a break.  Bethany will need to lay low for a while.  This is getting too dangerous for her.”

 

“Good,” Fenris said.  “Let’s get this done then.”

 

….

 

It was nearly morning by the time they came back from the tunnels below the city.  They’d left the young mages with a couple who participated in the underground.  The children would be smuggled out of the city after a meal and a few hours of sleep, before the Templars could start a thorough search.

 

When they were nearly to the Hawke estate Anders came to a stop.  Fenris paused and looked at him curiously.  “What’s wrong?” he asked tiredly.

 

“It’s nearly dawn,” Anders said as he stared up at the building he called home.  “Everyone should be asleep by now.”

 

Fenris frowned and then looked up at the estate.  There was light spilling from the upper windows which meant the chandelier in the main hall was still lit.  They exchanged a look and then in an unspoken agreement they broke into a run toward the house.

 

Once inside Anders skidded to a stop inside the main hall.  Merrill and Isabela sat at the top of the stairs, their heads together.  The dark haired elf looked terrified, and Isabela was obviously trying to comfort her.  When Merrill looked up and saw Anders at the bottom of the stairs, she jumped to her feet.  “Thank the Creator you’re here!”

 

“What’s going on?” Anders asked.  A long wail from his room answered his question before Merrill could.  “She’s in _labor?_ ”

 

He took the stairs two at a time, pushing his way between the two women.  Vaguely Anders heard Isabela explaining to Fenris how Leandra had sent Barkley to the Hanged Man with a message about Tanwen’s labor pains in case they stopped there before going home.  Isabela had received the message instead and had fetched Aveline before coming to the estate for moral support.

 

The memory of Tanwen rubbing her swollen belly every few minutes before he’d left tonight flashed through his mind.  “Stupid, stupid, stupid,” he hissed to himself.  “You’re a fucking healer and you didn’t even notice the blighted signs!”  He’d been exhausted, and focused on his plans for getting the mages out of the Gallows, but that didn’t assuage his guilty conscience.

 

He threw the door to their room open and froze.  Aveline sat at the head of the bed with her arm around Tanwen’s shoulders as Leandra folded linens nearby.  The scene seemed way too calm.

 

Tanwen’s face was scrunched up and she was panting slightly, but she was otherwise alright.  She opened her eyes and smiled at him crookedly.  “Hello dearest,” she greeted him breathlessly.  “You have very good timing.”

 

Anders let out a breath he didn’t know he’d been holding, and he felt like he was going to sink into the floor.  He put his hand on the door frame to hold himself up.  “Maker when I heard you just now…”

 

Leandra laughed.  “She doesn’t hate you yet, so it’s not that bad.”

 

“ _Mo_ ther,” Tanwen sighed with a roll of her eyes.  She turned to Anders and held out her hand.

 

He propped his staff against the wall near the door and crossed the room.  He didn’t take her hand, but he did press the back of his wrist against her forehead.  A tendril of magic showed him she was alright for now, and he let out a gusting sigh of relief.  He hadn’t expected the baby to come for a few weeks, and an early birth could be so dangerous.  Everything seemed normal though, and other than the typical stress that labor put on a baby, the child seemed just fine to his senses.  “Let me get cleaned up, love,” he said.  “I’ve been in the sewers.  I don’t want you to get an infection.”

 

She nodded and he left the room to go to the bathing chamber.  He shut the door behind him and leaned his back against it.  His knees collapsed, and he slid down to land on his arse on the floor.  He cupped his head in his hands and concentrated on his breathing.

 

“You going to be ok there, Sparklefingers?” Isabela asked from the top of the stairs.

 

“He looks a bit pale,” Merrill said worriedly from the step below the pirate.  “I hope he’s not going to be sick.”

 

Fenris squatted down next to Anders and gingerly put his hand on his shoulder.  It was an extraordinary gesture coming from the elf considering he didn’t like being touched, and especially didn’t like mages.  Most of them anyway.  “Do you need anything?” Fenris asked softly.

 

Anders let out a high pitched laugh.  “My wife is about to have a baby,” he squeaked.  “And I’m not sure I’m ready for this.”

 

Fenris nodded solemnly.  “Come,” he said.  He slid his arm under Anders’ and hoisted him to his feet.  “I heard you say you need to get cleaned up.”  He led the mage towards the bathing chamber.

 

By the time Anders was finished cleaning up, Varric had arrived because Isabela had sent word to him.  He called congratulations up the stairs as Anders approached his room, and dealt cards to Isabela and Merrill to keep them entertained.

 

Outside the bedchamber door, Anders paused and took a deep breath, fortifying himself for what was about to happen.  When he entered his room again, Tanwen was relaxed and dozing against Aveline’s shoulder.  He squared his shoulders and stepped forward.  It was going to be a long day.

 

Tanwen’s labor was long, but luckily not difficult although he knew there were many times she would have begged to differ.  Leandra was right about her hating him as time went on.  He hadn’t known that her vocabulary was that dirty, and he suspected most of it she’d learned from Isabela.

 

When he finally saw the baby’s head crest and Tanwen gave one last pain filled scream as she pushed, he felt a sense of wonder that made him go numb.  Time slowed down, and sped up all at once.  Soon he held his son in his hands, and everything around him faded.

 

**_This is our child?_ **

 

Anders nodded although Justice didn’t need the physical confirmation, and Leandra and Aveline would have no idea what the gesture was for.  His mother in law held out a clean towel to wrap the baby in, but Anders had difficulty letting her have him.

 

A son.  With thin curls of black hair like his mother.  Would his eyes be blue also?

 

A moan from Tanwen brought him out of his trance and he finally allowed Leandra to take the boy.  He turned back to his wife, and took care of her while he allowed his mother in law to clean up the baby.  He looked up and watched the expression on Tanwen’s face as Leandra handed the bundle to her.

 

She was pale, and sweaty.  Her black hair was stuck to her skin in oily strands.  She was in that moment, the most beautiful woman he’d ever seen and he had to blink back tears.  Her smile was tired, but full of so much love and pride.  She glanced up at him and he felt included in the aura of her happiness.   _I love you,_ she mouthed.

 

 _I love you, too,_ he said back silently.

 

He finished cleaning up and washing his hands, and then he moved to stand next to the bed.  Aveline smiled up at him proudly and moved so that he could take her place and wrap his arm around his wife.

 

Tanwen was brushing her nails through the baby’s wispy hair.  “What should we call him?” she asked softly.

 

“You did all the work,” Anders teased as he stared down at their child in awe.  “I’ll let you decide.”

 

“Carver.  I want to name him Carver.”

 

Leandra let out a quiet sob and held a clean towel up to her mouth.  Anders looked up at her with a warm smile.  “I think that’s a wonderful idea.”  He reached out to brush a finger over his son’s cheek.  “Carver Hawke.”

 

“I still think it’s strange that you took my surname,” Tanwen said and he could hear the smile in her voice.

 

Anders met her eyes and smiled.  “I didn’t need one until I met you.”

 

She rolled her eyes at him, and they both turned back to look at Carver.  The boy opened caramel brown eyes, and Anders felt Justice’s overflowing wonder merge with his own.

 

 ** _What is this?_** Justice asked.

 

 _I’m pretty sure you just figured out what unconditional love is._  Until this moment, the spirit had only experienced it second hand.  First through the faded memories of Kristoff’s corpse, and then more clearly through Anders.  Anders wondered briefly how the spirit would be changed by the experience.  For the better, he hoped.

 

**_It is… overwhelming._ **

 

It was.  But it was the most amazing feeling in the world.  At that moment, he felt the gap between him and the spirit narrow slightly.  For once, they were in complete and utter agreement about something.  Family, above all else, was worth every sacrifice.


	11. Chapter 11

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Four Years Later

**PART TWO**

Anders opened the door leading from the cellars into the kitchen and his stomach growled loudly at the smell of bread and soup.  It had been a very long day, and he hadn’t been able to eat anything while at the clinic.

 

“Good evening, Messere,” Bodahn said cheerfully from where he was slicing a fresh loaf of bread.  “Glad you could make it home in time for dinner.”

 

Anders snagged a slice of bread and winked at the dwarf.  “Don’t worry, I’ll have room for more,” he promised as he walked out of the room.

 

Once he reached the main hall, he saw Orana arranging a vase of red flowers on the table near the hearth.  He suppressed a wince at the memory of white lilies in that same spot.  “Hello Orana,” he said as cheerfully as he could.

 

Orana blushed, still unused to being treated as part of the family instead of part of the background, even after all this time.  “Hello, Master Anders.  You’re in a good mood,” she said as she turned away from the flowers and dried her hands on her apron.

 

He was in a very good mood.  Tanwen had woken up in a particularly frisky mood that morning, and that always started his day out right.  After months of seeing nothing but the hollow grief in her eyes, it was a relief to see her smile.

 

The clinic had run smoothly, allowing him to close early, and he’d received news from Mistress Selby of another successful “shipment”, meaning that they’d managed to sneak another child and his family away from the city before the Templars could catch them.  “It’s been a good day,” he said in answer to Orana’s observation.  “Where’s Tanwen?  I have some good news to share with her.”

 

“She’s out, Master Anders.  She didn’t say when she would be back,” the little elf answered quietly.

 

Anders frowned.  Tanwen hadn’t told him about her plans for the day, but that wasn’t unusual.  However, she usually left Carver in Orana’s care when she was gone, and a quick glance around the room didn’t reveal the boy.  “Where’s Carver?  Is he sleeping?”

 

Orana shook her head.  “He’s in the library with Master Fenris.”

 

Anders nodded his thanks and turned to go find his son, leaving Orana to her work.  When he opened the library door, he saw Fenris sitting cross legged on the floor with Carver sitting in his lap.  The elf was reading a book to the boy in his soft gruff voice.  He’d improved greatly over the years, and he liked to share his love of reading with Carver.  Anders didn’t want to disturb them, but a floorboard creaked under his foot bringing their heads up.

 

“Daddy!”

 

Carver scrambled up and ran across the room to hug him.  Anders caught him up in his arms and twirled him around until the boy was giggling.  Then he gave his son a loud kiss on his cheek.  “Hello Fledgling,” he said, using Varric’s nickname for the boy.  “I missed you today.”

 

“You miss me every day,” Carver said with a roll of his pale brown eyes.

 

Of course he did.  It was difficult to spend so much time away from his family, but he couldn’t stop his work.  Anders nuzzled Carver’s cheek making him giggle.  “So?  Don’t you miss me too?”

 

Carver nodded.  “Yes, but Uncle Fenris came to visit me, so I’m ok.”

 

Fenris stood and marked his place in the book before setting it on a nearby table.  “I came to see Hawke, but she was gone by the time I got here.”

 

Anders nodded.  “Yes, Orana mentioned she’d gone out earlier today.  Is there anything I can do for you?”

 

The elf shook his head.  “I was just going to deliver a letter from Bethany.  But Carver asked me to read for him, so I stayed.”

 

“He read me a story about elves fighting Magis’rs!” Carver said.

 

Anders rolled his eyes.  “You’re not filling his head with stories about why mages are evil again, are you?” he asked dryly.

 

Fenris smiled wide enough to show his teeth, and his eyes twinkled slyly.  “How else is he going to learn about the dangers of… slavery?”  Anders could tell that he meant magic, but he also knew how to tell when the elf was teasing now.  “Anyway, I left the letter with your mail on the table.  I should be going.”

 

“You could stay for dinner if you’d like,” Anders offered.  “What do you think Carver? Do you think he should stay?”

 

“Stay!” Carver shouted at the top of his lungs, making Fenris chuckle and Anders reach up to rub his ringing ear.

 

Fenris bowed slightly.  “I’d be happy to.  As long as there’s no fish.”

 

Carver turned back to Anders.  “No fish, ok?”  Suddenly he wrinkled his nose at him.  “Daddy, you smell.”

 

Fenris hid his smile behind a fist, and Anders laughed.  “I imagine I do.  A bath is probably in order.”  He slung Carver over his shoulder, making the boy squeal with laughter.  “You come with me, and we’ll get clean for dinner.”

 

Fenris rolled his eyes and picked up his book before settling back onto the floor to read while Anders carted the wiggling boy out of the room.

 

Once in the bathing chamber Anders mock-dropped Carver, catching him at the last moment before setting him on his feet and ordering him to strip down.  Then he filled the tub while he listened to his son tell him all about his day.  When there was enough water, he stripped himself down, picked up the chattering boy and got in the tub with him, warming it with a spell, much to Carver’s delight.

 

He washed himself while Carver splashed around, and then attacked his son with the soap.  He lathered up Carver’s hair and sculpted it into spikes, and generally enjoyed the happy sounds despite the fact that he wasn’t really paying attention to what Carver was saying.

 

“And momma got this really grumpy look on her face when Aunty ‘Bela came to see her,” Carver chattered.

 

Anders chuckled.  Tanwen had been grouchy with everyone lately, and he suspected it was because she was pregnant again.  She was exhibiting all the same symptoms from her pregnancy with Carver.  He was waiting to see if she’d figure it out, or if he needed to tell her.

 

Clean now, they got out of the tub, and were in the middle of drying off when they heard a loud bark, and Tanwen’s voice.

 

“Momma’s home!”  Carver shouted, and before Anders could grab hold of the slippery child, he was out of the room and running naked down the stairs.  Anders wrapped his robe around himself and grabbed one for the boy before he followed.  He stood at the top of the stairs and watched with a smile as Tanwen scooped Carver up into her arms and gave him a tight hug, despite the fact that he was getting her clothing wet.

 

Tanwen was dressed in formal wear and since she’d been accompanied by Aveline and Donnic, he assumed she’d been in another meeting with the Viscount.  The man was constantly asking for her help, especially since the death of his son.  Something about the loss had broken the man, and he wasn’t quite the same.  The situation with the Qunari was heating up, and for some reason the Arishok preferred Tanwen to be the Viscount’s emissary.  Despite her own grief over the death of Leandra, or maybe because of it, Tanwen always agreed.

 

It made him extremely nervous every time she went to the Qunari compound without him.  She never went without her armor and knives though, which at least calmed him a little bit.  She wasn’t the type to risk her own safety just to look nice for a meeting where no one cared what she looked like.

 

Carver had noticed Aveline and Donnic and was chattering at them about an enchantment Sandal made when Tanwen looked up and noticed Anders standing at the top of the stairs.  He winked at her and held up the smaller robe.  “Carver, sweetling,” Tanwen said.  “Let’s get you dressed for dinner and then you can tell them all about it.”

 

She excused herself from their friends and came up the stairs, kissing Anders by way of greeting before they went back to their room.  Once they were all dressed, dinner was ready and they joined their guests.  It was a cheery affair; although Anders could tell from the stiff way that Tanwen and Aveline spoke that they had something serious on their minds.

 

When the meal was finished, Orana took Carver off to bed despite his protests.  He gave everyone a kiss on the cheek before she carried him upstairs.

 

“He’s getting so big,” Aveline said with a smile.  “I can’t believe he’s four.”  Her expression dimmed.  “He seems to be handling the loss well.”

 

Tanwen’s smile also faded slightly.  “He misses her, but children are resilient.  He asks about her less often now.”

 

Anders watched Tanwen carefully as she discussed her mother’s death.  It had been long enough that she no longer cried at random reminders, but he knew she still blamed herself for not saving Leandra.  Her voice broke once, and he reached his hand under the table to take hers, drawing a grateful smile from her.

 

It still surprised him that she didn’t blame mages for what had happened.  Anyone else would have.  It had infuriated Justice.  The spirit abhorred blood magic and what happened to Leandra was one of its worst examples.

 

Anders worried that someday Tanwen would reach her limit, and he only hoped that he could be strong enough for her when it happened.

 

“So you’ll come with me to meet the Arishok in the morning?” Aveline asked.

 

Anders, realizing that he hadn’t been paying attention to the conversation, jumped slightly.  “What?  Why?”

 

Donnic leaned forward and braced his crossed arms on the table that Bodahn had just cleared of dishes.  “The Arishok is harboring escaped murderers,” he said.  “He’s going to let them join the Qun.”

 

Fenris snorted in disgust.  “I’ve heard those fugitives killed a man because he raped their sister,” he said sourly before taking a sip of his wine.

 

Aveline glared at him.  “That is no excuse.  They should have come to the guard.”

 

“I’m sure that would have been productive,” Fenris sneered into his cup as he glared at the Guard Captain.

 

She bristled.  “I’m doing everything I can to protect every citizen of the city, Fenris, and you know it.”

 

Before Fenris could argue further, Tanwen placed a hand on his arm and he stopped.  “I apologize,” he said with a nod towards Aveline.  “I know you have your job cut out for you.”

 

“So you’re going to get them back to face their punishment?” Anders asked.  Justice grumbled in the back of his mind about the situation, but he ignored the spirit for now.  He was slowly learning about the shades of grey, and this particular situation was something Anders knew Justice would probably have to think about long and hard, but right now Anders was focused on Tanwen’s safety.

 

Aveline gave a curt nod.  “I’m sure I’ll have an easier time of it if Hawke is with me.  He listens to her.”

 

“I’m going,” Anders said.  When Tanwen opened her mouth to disagree he poked her in the nose with the tip of his finger.  “No arguments.”

 

She snapped her lips shut and gave him an irritated look, but he could see the corners of her mouth turn up in a small smile.  “Alright,” she finally agreed.  She turned to Fenris.  “Will you come too?  I feel more comfortable speaking with the Arishok when you’re around.”

 

Fenris nodded.  “Of course, Hawke.”

 

Conversation turned to a discussion about a group of slavers Fenris had helped Aveline collar a few weeks before.  Anders sat back and enjoyed the evening.  He was worried that Tanwen was working herself too hard, but he hardly had room to talk to her about it considering this was the first night he’d been home in time for dinner for weeks.  Running the clinic and helping Lirene provide for refugees and helping mages escape from the city nearly ran him ragged, and he was beginning to feel the exhaustion.  Not to mention, he spent just as much of his time with Tanwen whenever she was needed for something that might be dangerous.  Her friends never seemed to remember that she was a mother and a wife, so they were always coming to her for help.

 

A part of him felt guilty for leaving his son home with the servants so much, but he couldn’t stop his work.  Tanwen couldn’t either.  She was starting to make connections with the nobility and if she gained enough political power maybe she could make changes in the city legally.

 

It was getting late enough that Orana would probably be getting Carver ready for bed.  He was thinking of ways to break into the conversation and shoo their guests off home so he could go up and spend time with him when there was a commotion outside the dining room.

 

The door swung open and Isabela, followed closely by a worried looking Merrill, came in the room.  Aveline rolled her eyes and mumbled something that involved “slattern”.  Isabela must have heard her because she gave the guard captain a look, but it wasn’t her usual smirk.  “Hawke, I need your help,” she said urgently.  Anders felt his heart sink.  Isabela had a serious cast to her features that was rare.

 

“It’s getting late, Isabela,” Tanwen said.  “Can it wait until tomorrow afternoon?”

 

Isabela shook her head.  “I need your help tonight, or I could die.”

 

Anders and Tanwen exchanged a look.  So much for a relaxed evening at home.


	12. Chapter 12

Anders fidgeted as they stood outside the Qunari compound waiting for Tanwen and Aveline to conduct their business.  He’d lean against the stone wall behind him before he’d stand straight to flex his shoulders.  His weight shifted first to his left foot, then to his right as he twirled his staff between his hands.  
  
  
He tried not to worry, but the Arishok was bound to be angry that his precious book had been stolen and the thief escaped.   _Damn you Isabela.  And here we thought you were our friend._  He ground his teeth angrily.  Her selfishness was endangering his wife.  
  
  
“Relax, Blondie,” Varric said wryly.  “You’re making me dizzy with all that dancing around.”  
  
  
Forcing himself to relax against the wall again, Anders managed a stiff grin for the dwarf.  “Fenris has been giving me lessons.  I figured now was a good time to practice since we’re not doing anything else.”  
  
  
Fenris looked up from examining the bottom of his foot and glared at Anders.  “You’re a horrible student,” he said in a perfect deadpan.  
  
  
Varric laughed, and started teasing Fenris.  Anders let his smile fade now that he was no longer the focus of attention.  He couldn’t help but worry about his wife.  She wasn’t alone, and he trusted Aveline.  It’s just… “I should be in there with Tanwen,” he mumbled.  
  
  
“Blondie, why do you have to say things like that?” Varric asked in exasperation.  “You know I’m superstitious about that kind of thing.”  
  
  
Anders opened his mouth for a retort, but shouting from the compound drew his attention.  The Qunari guards outside the compound held their ground, not even moving.  They knew what was going on.  
  
  
“Good job on jinxing a perfectly normal day,” Varric sighed as he pulled Bianca from her harness at his shoulder.      
  
  
Anders wasn’t listening.  He was already moving towards the compound gate.  When the guards lifted their weapons and prepared to attack he called fire to his hands and with a pushing motion let it flow outwards.  It was satisfying to learn that the stoic creatures screamed just as loudly as anyone else when their flesh began to cook from the flames.  
  
  
Explosions made him flinch, and he could hear his friends shouting, but his focus remained on the gates.  Only when they swung open to reveal Tanwen and Aveline did he realize that the docks had become a war zone.  
  
  
Tanwen ran to him, gracefully hopping over the scorched corpses that were all that remained of the Qunari guards after Anders’ attack.  He caught her in his arms and pulled her into a tight hug.  Relief surged through him that she was alright.  “What’s happening?” he asked when she pulled away.  
  
  
It was Aveline who answered.  “The Arishok has ordered an attack on the city.  They’re going to force a conversion to the Qun.”  
  
  
Tanwen’s blue eyes were wide, the pupils dilated from adrenaline.  Her voice, when she spoke, was urgent and shook with fear.  “Anders they’re going after the nobles in Hightown.  We have to get Carver.”  
  
  
A roar from the compound caught their attention.  More Qunari were pouring through the gates.  Anders wanted to torch them all, but Tanwen was right.  They needed to get to Hightown.  Two dwarves and an elf girl would be no match for Qunari warriors.  “Run!” he shouted as he grabbed Tanwen’s hand and pulled her behind him.  
  
  
Passage through the city quickly became difficult despite the fact that they picked Merrill up along the way.  The chaos had spread quickly and they had to stop often to fight.  By the time they reached the Hightown Market they were all covered in blood, some of it their own.  Their way was blocked by a group of Qunari, and unfortunately none of them noticed the Sarabaas with the warriors.  
  
  
A wave of electricity washed toward them and Anders was only barely able to put up a shield in time to prevent them all from getting fried, although they still got knocked off their feet.  Anders was blinking away double vision when he saw the Sarabaas stalk closer to Tanwen.  
  
  
“No,” he breathed, but he was still too stunned to pull his magic together.  He watched helplessly as the bound mage began to cast.  
  
  
When a blade swept through the Sarabaas’ neck, Anders thought he was imagining things.  Aveline helped him to his feet as, of all people, the Knight Commander helped Tanwen to hers.  
  
  
“You will come with me,” Meredith was saying.  “I know your reputation, and the Arishok respects you.”  
  
  
“No, I can’t,” Tanwen said.  “You don’t understand-“  
  
  
“You will help me save this city,” Meredith interrupted.  “Because I know you want to keep your sister safe.”  
  
  
Tanwen went very still.  “You know about my sister?” she asked in a small voice.  
  
  
Anders tried to move forward, but Aveline held him back.  “No,” she hissed.  “You’ll make it worse.”  The pressure of her hand on his shoulder was light, but the weight of her words was enough to keep him still for the moment.  
  
  
“Of course I know of Bethany,” Meredith said.  “Some of her recent activities have come to my attention.  I’m willing to… overlook them in exchange for your assistance.”  
  
  
Tanwen turned and met Anders’ eyes.  He could see how torn she was.  Without looking away from him, she spoke.  “You won’t make her Tranquil?”  
  
  
Meredith’s eyes sharpened.  She knew she was going to get her way.  “Provided certain activities cease.”  
  
  
She spoke of the escapes from the Circle.  Anders felt his heart sink.  He didn’t want anything to happen to Bethany, but he knew that this would be the end of the mage underground.  And from the looks on everyone else’s faces, they knew it too.  
  
  
 ** _NO!_** Justice’s protest was so violent that Anders barely held it back.  He felt his skin tighten and his vision became tinged with blue, but he planted his feet and concentrated on the feel of Aveline’s grip on his shoulder.  It was just barely enough to keep him grounded.  
  
  
 _We have no choice,_ Anders told the spirit.   _We will just need to find another way._  
  
  
To his relief Justice no longer pushed for control, although Anders winced at the spirit’s rage.  He agreed, but he also understood that fighting now would only make things worse, and Bethany would suffer anyway.  Tanwen came to the same conclusion, and she nodded her agreement to the Knight Commander.  
  
  
“Alright,” she said.  “Just… give me a moment?”  
  
  
Meredith nodded her permission and Tanwen turned to Anders.  She wrapped her arms around his neck and pulled him close.  “I’m sorry,” she whispered against his ear.  
  
  
“I understand,” he murmured back.  “Bethany’s safety is just as important to me.”  
  
  
She nodded and pulled back enough to look into his eyes.  “Go to Carver.  Keep him safe.”  
  
  
Anders felt his stomach drop to his feet at the idea of not being with her, but Carver needed him more right now.  “I will,” he whispered back.  “Be safe.”  
  
  
She nodded and gave him a quick kiss before slipping out of his arms.  Anders turned to the companions gathered around them.  “Keep her safe,” he ordered.  
  
  
“What about you?”  Merrill asked.  
  
  
“I’m going to the estate,” he answered curtly.  
  
  
“I’ll come with you,” she offered.  
  
  
Anders realized she couldn’t go with Tanwen.  She would risk exposing herself to the Templars, and he was sure Meredith’s lenience wouldn’t extend any further than it already had.  He gave her a sharp nod of agreement as the others followed Tanwen up the stairs towards the Viscount’s Keep.  With one last worried look at his wife, he turned toward home.  
  
  
As Anders ran through the streets of Hightown towards home he briefly worried about Merrill keeping up with his longer strides, but she kept pace with ease.   They encountered small groups of Qunari, but the warriors were no match for two mages who knew how to work in tandem.  When they reached the estate, Anders stumbled to a halt when he noticed the door was broken off the hinges.  
  
  
“That doesn’t look good,” Merrill said.  She glanced up at him worriedly.  “I’m sure everything is fine.”  She didn’t sound convinced.  
  
  
They entered the house, cautiously stepping over the ruins of the door.  The foyer and main hall were empty, but the rooms were torn apart.  Anders swallowed as he looked around at the damage.  Clearly there had been fighting, but there were no bodies.  Was he too late?  
  
  
Maker help the Qunari if they had his son.  What he would do to them... well it wasn’t quite justice.  
  
  
“It’s so quiet,” Merrill whispered loudly.  “Don’t you think it’s too quiet, Anders?”  
  
  
He glared at her and put a finger up to his lips.  She covered her mouth with a hand and her ears drooped slightly, but she nodded and said no more.  
  
  
They both jumped when they heard what sounded like an explosion coming from beneath their feet.  For a split second their eyes met, and then they were running for the passage to the cellars.  Anders pulled power from the fade and held it in flames around his hands.  In the first level there were corpses, some with slices that looked like they might have been administered by a cleaver, and one that was frozen solid.  It reminded him of something he had seen in the Deep Roads, years ago and his heart lifted with hope that Sandal was using some of his strange tricks to protect everyone.  
  
  
In the stairwell to the lowest level of the cellars there was a rumble as the foundations of the estate shook.  Merrill lost her balance, and Anders just barely kept his feet.  He didn’t stop to help her up, instead taking the stairs down as quickly as possible.  The stone still shook occasionally under him, and he stumbled against the doorway when he reached the bottom.  
  
  
He must have hit his head because what he saw didn’t make sense.  Bodahn was kneeling on the floor next to Orana who was bleeding from a head injury.  Carver stood behind Sandal who had an enchanted stone in each fist.  The last of the Qunari was collapsed in a twitching heap before them.  
  
  
Carver’s whole body was alight with magic.  Spirit energy swirled around his arms, and Anders could sense his connection to the Fade.  
  
  
“He’s so strong,” Merrill said from behind him.  Her voice was filled with surprise and awe.  
  
  
Anders nodded slowly, speechless.  
  
He righted himself and stepped into the room.  Carver’s tear filled golden-brown eyes turned to Anders and the magic around him swelled.  “Daddy?” he said as if he didn’t believe what he saw.  
  
  
Anders dropped to his knees in front of his son, ignoring the tingle of magic surrounding him, and wrapped him in his arms.  “It’s ok.  You’re ok,” he said soothingly.  He ran his hands up and down the boy’s back, feeling him shake.  “Let it go, Carver.”  
  
  
The magic faded slowly, and when it did Carver sagged in his arms.  He must have been exhausted after channeling such a large amount of power.  Anders gathered him close to his chest and pressed his nose against his son’s black hair.  He closed his eyes against the burn of tears.  “I’m sorry,” he whispered.  He kept repeating it.  He didn’t want to think about what he was sorry for.  He just needed Carver to hear it.  
  



	13. Chapter 13

Anders left the others downstairs to take care of the bodies while he carried Carver upstairs.  When he reached the main hall, he hesitated.  The front door was destroyed and until Tanwen came home he wouldn’t be leaving the estate.  He needed to do something to keep more intruders out, because even if the Qunari stayed away, he didn’t want to encourage looters and thieves to come poking around by leaving the door wide open.  He moved to set Carver down, but the boy started whimpering, and wrapped his arms tightly around Anders’ neck.

 

Kneeling down, Anders pried Carver’s hands away and cupped his face gently.  “It’s alright,” he soothed.  He brushed the boy’s dark hair away from his face, letting a small pulse of healing magic leak from his fingers to calm him.  “I’m not going to leave you,” he said.  “I just need to make sure no one else comes into the house, ok?”

 

Pale brown eyes, wide with fear, stared up at him unblinking.  They were red and puffy, and there were streaks of dried tears on his cheeks.  He was obviously terrified, but Carver nodded and let go.  His bottom lip trembled, but he stayed where Anders put him down.

 

Pride filled his heart as Anders stood.  He smiled and ruffled Carver’s hair before he unhooked the staff from his shoulder.  Carver gave him a wobbly smile and watched with interest as Anders began to channel power through his staff.  Illusion spells were not Anders’ specialty, and he had to speak the spell out loud to get it just right.  When he was finished, anyone outside would see a closed door.  He put a trigger on it so if someone did try to breach the barrier he would know.

 

Once he was satisfied, Anders picked Carver up again to carry him up the stairs.  Instead of taking the boy to his own room, Anders took him to the master bedroom.  This time when he tried to set his son down, the boy refused to let him go.  “Hey,” he said softly against a small ear.  “What’s wrong?”

 

Carver was shaking, and when he answered, his voice was wavering.  “I don’t want them to take me away.”

 

“Those big horned beasts?” Anders asked.  “They can’t hurt you now.”

 

The trembling increased and Carver shook his head violently, bumping his forehead against Anders’ chin.  “No,” he whimpered.

 

Anders frowned in confusion.  What was he missing?  “Who then?”

 

When the answer came, it was very quiet and if Carver weren’t practically glued to his neck, Anders wouldn’t have heard him.  “Templars.”

 

Chills ran down Anders’ spine.  He had been trying not to think about that.  As soon as he’d realized his son had magic, he’d slammed an imaginary door in his mind.  It hadn’t even occurred to him that Carver would understand the implications of having magic.  He and Tanwen had never kept his magic a secret from the boy, but they had stressed the importance of secrecy.

 

Only now he realized they may have demonized the Templars a little too much.  Carver was terrified.  Anders hugged him tight.  He was scared too.  There were so many that he had failed to protect.  Children captured before they could be smuggled away from the city, mages turned Tranquil before they could be secreted out of the Gallows.  Now he also had to worry about Carver.

 

Not letting go of the boy, Anders crawled onto the bed and lay down next to him.  Bodahn would probably have a fit when he saw his filthy coat and boots on the coverlet, but he didn’t care at the moment.  “Your mother and I won’t let anything happen to you,” he said softly once they were settled on the pillows.  He rubbed Carver’s back reassuringly.  “I promise.”

 

It took a while, but Carver eventually began to relax.  Anders held him until he fell asleep, and stayed there with him.  Merrill eventually came to check on him, whispering loudly that she would stay to keep watch, and that Orana was ok, just a bit shaken up, and not in need of healing.  Bodahn was making tea if he wanted some.  

 

Anders accepted with a nod, and the elf left.  He was grateful for her presence.  The illusion he’d put on the door would not be enough if more Qunari decided to explore.  He probably should have gotten up to help her, but he couldn’t bring himself to leave Carver just yet.

 

The screams from outside had faded, and everything seemed eerily quiet in the estate.  He could almost imagine there was nothing wrong, and that he was just lying down to take a nap with his son while Tanwen was in another room.

 

His mind felt torn between worry for Tanwen, and for Carver.  He wanted to go out and find his wife, to bring her home and protect her.  Yet he needed to be here with his son.  He knew she considered Carver more important than herself, but the two of them were his world.  Anders didn’t even want to think of what life would be like without one or the other of them.

 

“It should be safe for now,” Merrill said softly as she brought a tray of tea and apple slices into the room.  “I haven’t heard anything from outside in quite a while.  Sandal is watching the door for now.”  She set the tray down on a table near the hearth.  “It’s kind of scary the way that boy doesn’t even seem to react to things.  He just sits there, mumbling about salamanders and enchantments.”

 

Anders turned his head to look at the elf.  “No word from Tanwen yet?” he asked.

 

Merrill shook her head as she poured him a cup of tea.  She waited for him to shift Carver, and sit up on the bed before she handed it to him.  “Nothing for a while.  I think the Qunari were just gathering nobles.  I saw them dragging a few through the streets toward the Keep.  They paid no attention to me when they saw me looking through a window.”

 

He accepted the tea from her with a nod of thanks.  “They probably think you’re a servant.  They’re going to start with the leaders and work their way down the ranks.”

 

“I guess that makes sense,” Merrill said as she poured her own cup of tea.  She brought it along with the plate of apple slices over to the bed.  She perched on the end and looked at Carver’s sleeping form.  “I wonder what Hawke is going to think about this,” she said.

 

Anders gave a snort.  “I have no idea.  It’s not something we’ve ever talked about.”

 

“Why not?  You probably should have expected it,” she said.  “Hawke isn’t a mage, but it runs in her family.  Oh you know that because you’re friends with Bethany.  Did you know their father was also a mage?”

 

Carver shifted fitfully, and cuddled closer to Anders’ hip.  He gave Merrill a warning glance to keep her voice down.  She winced and put her fingers over her mouth.  “Sorry,” she whispered.  “The poor dear.  He’s probably exhausted.  I remember the first time I did magic… all I wanted to do was sleep for the next few days.”

 

Anders nodded his agreement, although he shied away from the memories of his own magic manifesting.  Even after all these years it hurt to remember his parents’ reaction.  “I guess we both thought we’d have a few more years before it would become an issue,” Anders said in answer to Merrill’s question.  He reached down and brushed his fingers through Carver’s hair.  “He’s still so young.  I don’t think I’ve ever seen a child come into his power this early.”

 

“Well, the circumstances were a bit out of the ordinary,” Merrill said.  “He must have been very afraid.”

 

“Damn Isabela,” Anders hissed.  “He may not have been in danger if she hadn’t stolen that book.”

 

Merrill’s head drooped and she studied the cup in her hand.  “If she had known what would happen…maybe she would have done things differently.”

 

“She never thinks of anyone but herself,” Anders said angrily.  When he saw the elf shrink further into herself he took a deep calming breath.  “I’m sorry Merrill.  I know you care for her.”  When she only nodded sadly he felt bad about speaking his thoughts to her.  Isabela had been her closest friend during her years in Kirkwall, and this had to be very hard for her.

 

He opened his mouth to say something else reassuring, but he was interrupted by a vibration running through his skin.  He swore and quickly got up from the bed, setting his teacup on the table as he passed it on the way to the bedroom door.

 

“What is it?” Merrill asked worriedly.  She also set her cup down and stood to follow him.

 

“Someone has passed my barrier,” Anders said as he grabbed his staff.  He headed down the stairs but came to a halt at the bottom when he saw who was coming into the hall.

 

Merrill crashed into his back, knocking him forward a step.  “What is it?  Who is here?” she chirped as she peeked around his shoulder.  “Oh.  Oh, no.”

 

Anders didn’t answer.  Fenris was carrying Tanwen in his arms and she was clearly unconscious.  His vision narrowed down into a dark tunnel, and he struggled to breath.  

 

Tanwen was drenched in blood.  Quite a bit of it was hers.


	14. Chapter 14

“We got her here as fast as we could, Blondie,” Varric said from behind Fenris.

 

The dwarf’s words broke through Anders’ haze, spurring him forward.  “What happened?” he demanded as he laid a hand on Tanwen’s forehead.  He closed his eyes and sent his magic flowing through her.  Not healing, just examining.  Getting a feel for what was wrong.

 

“The Arishok challenged her to a duel for the freedom of the city,” Aveline answered from the doorway.

 

Anders’ eyes shot open and he stared at the Guard Captain incredulously for a moment, completely unable to comprehend the magnitude of that statement.   “You allowed her to _duel_ the _Arishok?”_ Aveline opened her mouth to answer, but Anders didn’t give her a chance.  “Never mind,” he snapped.  Tanwen needed his skills more than he needed an explanation.  “Bring her upstairs.”

 

Vaguely Anders noticed that Isabela lurked behind Aveline.  Merrill lit up when she noticed the pirate, and moved as if she wanted to run to her, but stopped with a worried look at Tanwen.  She rushed up the stairs ahead of Anders, and entered the master bedroom.

 

Merrill gently lifted Carver, careful not to wake him.  “I’ll take him to his room,” she whispered.  “I’ll watch him for you.”

 

Anders gave her a nod and a small smile that probably looked more like a grimace.  He directed Fenris to lay Tanwen on the bed.  Once she was situated he laid his hands on either side of her face and closed his eyes to concentrate.

 

Fenris murmured something about waiting outside, but Anders was no longer paying attention.  Tanwen’s injuries were extensive, including a broken arm, and several cracked ribs.  Plus she had cuts and bruises everywhere.  He had healed her from worse, however this time was different because she had lost a lot of blood, and he could sense from her weakly beating heart that she was still bleeding somewhere.  He’d already stopped the bleeding from the cuts he could see, so whatever it was must be internal.  He sent his senses deeper into her body, already afraid of what he would find.

 

“No,” he moaned.  His eyes popped open and he began pulling her clothing away from her belly.  “No, please Maker, no.”  He pressed his fingers against her skin and started sending waves of healing energy into her womb.  He closed his eyes and felt tears spill over onto his cheeks when he realized the extent of the damage.

 

Tanwen woke with a gasp and writhed under his hands.  “Anders?” she gasped in pained confusion.  “What are you doing?”

 

“Hush, love,” he replied urgently.  “Hold still.”

 

Tanwen whimpered, but stopped moving.  “It hurts,” she whined.  “Anders, whatever you’re doing, it hurts.”

 

“I know.  I’m sorry, love,” he answered softly, his voice cracking on the last word.

 

Tanwen gasped and her hand gripped his shoulder.  Her fingers dug surprisingly hard into him, and he could feel the fear practically coming off her skin in waves.  “Is it the baby?” she demanded.

 

The waver in her voice nearly undid him, and he had to take a few deep shuddering breaths before he could answer her.  “Yes,” he answered hoarsely.  “You’re having a miscarriage.”

 

She was silent for a moment, and he turned his head slightly to see her staring at him blankly.  Then her face twisted with panic as his words sunk in.  “No,” she breathed.  “You can save it right?”  Her fingers tightened on his shoulder.  “Anders, you have to save our baby.”

 

Anders shook his head slightly.  “I-I can’t… It’s too late.”  There was too much damage already.  All he could do was make sure that her body flushed itself properly and that infection didn’t set in.

 

“No!” Tanwen said.  She struggled to sit up, and he had to stop what he was doing to hold her still.  “Anders, you can save it!  Please!”

 

Anders held her by the shoulders, and shook her slightly until her wild blue eyes met his.  “No, I can’t,” he said sadly.

 

Tanwen let out a sob and closed her eyes against the truth in his eyes.  She wrapped her arms around his neck and he held her gingerly.  She had two cracked ribs that he hadn’t healed yet because he needed to take care of the major damage first.  “Please,” she whispered against his ear.  “You have to do something.”

 

“Tanwen…”

 

She pulled back, and her eyes were wild.  “You have healed things that should have killed people.  You’ve healed _me_ when I should have died.  You can save our baby!”

 

“No,” Anders said soothingly.  When he noticed how wide her pupils were dilated he wanted to curse.  She was going into shock.  “It’s different this time.  It’s dead already.”

 

Tanwen stared at him in a panic.  “Use blood magic,” she said.

 

Anders recoiled.  “What?”

 

“It’s just a matter of power, right?  You just need to be strong enough?” she asked.  She wrapped her bloody fingers in the front of his coat and pulled him close.  “Use blood magic.”

 

Anders couldn’t believe what he was hearing.  Tanwen had mostly kept her opinions about blood magic to herself, other than defending Merrill against his and Fenris’ attacks.  She understood how he felt about it though.  At least he thought she did.

 

“Tanwen,” he said as calmly as he could.  He took her hands and pried them away from his coat.  He pressed her fists against his mouth for a moment, kissing the knuckles and healing the bruises there.  She had so many more injuries that he needed to take care of, but he needed her to understand what he was about to say.  “I wouldn’t use blood magic, even if I thought it would help,” he said softly.  “It would be wrong.”

 

Tanwen’s breathing sped up.  “Don’t you want to save our baby?”

 

“Of course I do,” Anders said.  “But Tanwen… it’s dead.  It wouldn’t be our child.  It would be _wrong_.”

 

She didn’t say anything for several breaths.  Her eyes flickered back and forth as she stared at him.  He willed her accept what he was saying.  He needed to heal her, but he couldn’t concentrate on it until he could get her to calm down.  He briefly considered forcing her to sleep with a spell, but decided against it.  Not until this was resolved.

 

He could see it in her eyes when she finally accepted the truth of his words.  Her eyes unfocused and she relaxed back on the pillows.  “Tanwen?” he murmured.

 

She turned her head away and remained silent.

 

Anders blinked rapidly to clear his blurring vision.  He wanted to talk to her, but he had already left her wounds too long.  He placed his hands back on her stomach, and concentrated on stopping the bleeding.

 

It took a lot out of him to heal her, but he didn’t leave even a single bruise.  She lost consciousness at some point and he was glad for it.  Healing could be nearly as painful as receiving a wound in the first place, and it broke him a little to see her anguish, both physical and emotional.  When he finished, he went out into the hall to ask for help getting her cleaned up and to change the bedding, and nearly tripped over Barkley.  He tilted his head towards the bedroom, giving the dog permission to go in to see Tanwen.

 

The mabari rushed past him, but skidded to the halt next to the bed.  He didn’t jump up on it like he normally would.  Instead he just put his front paws on the bed and laid his broad head down.  He let out a whine and a soft bark and nuzzled Tanwen’s cheek.

 

Anders shook his and sighed tiredly before moving to the top of the stairs.  Fenris and Varric were playing chess while Aveline paced back and forth in front of the fireplace.  He didn’t see Merrill, but he assumed she was still taking care of Carver.  As he came down the stairs, he saw Isabela sitting on the floor near the door.

 

She was the first to see him, and she scrambled to her feet.  “Is she alright?”

 

Anders came to a stop.  “What are you doing here?” he asked bitterly.  “I thought you’d be long gone with your precious book.”

 

Isabela wrapped her arms around herself, and looked away.  “Hawke has managed to rub off on me and I… I came back.”

 

“You came back,” Anders said flatly.  The others shifted uncomfortably at his tone.  “Did you not bring the book back with you?”

 

Isabela shifted from one foot to another and glanced up at him quickly.  “I did.  And I feel like a complete idiot for doing it.  But…”

 

Anders walked slowly down the stairs.  “But what?” he demanded.  “Suddenly you grew a conscience?  Too bad you couldn’t have done it before the Arishok decided to beat her to a pulp.”

 

Surprisingly it was Aveline who stepped forward to defend the pirate.  “Anders, it’s not her fault.”

 

“Not her fault?” Anders demanded, turning his glare on the Guard Captain.  “Whose fault is it?

 

Aveline glanced at Isabela.  “Alright, so maybe it’s a little bit her fault.”

 

Isabela glared at Aveline for a moment before turning back to Anders.  “I tried to get the Arishok to duel me instead but-“

 

Anders shook his head and cut her off as he stalked toward her.  “I don’t care.  Your selfishness nearly cost her life.”  He stopped and waited for her to meet his eyes.  “She was pregnant,” he said quietly.

 

Isabela’s mouth dropped open.  “What?”

 

“Was?” Varric asked.  His tone was soft, and Anders could tell from his expression that he didn’t really need any further clarification.

 

“Is she going to be alright?” Aveline asked urgently.

 

Anders didn’t look away from Isabela when he answered.  “Her body will be.  I’m pretty sure she’ll still be able to have children, too.  But I don’t know if she’ll be alright.”

 

The pirate backed up a few steps.  “Anders I’m so sorry.”

 

“Tell that to my wife!” Anders roared making Isabela wince take another step back.  “Did you at least thank her for saving your ass again?”

 

Fenris stood and put a hand on Anders’ shoulder.  “It was Tanwen’s choice,” he said gruffly.

 

Anders spun, knocking the elf’s hand from his shoulder.  “You should have talked her out of it!”  He laughed hysterically.  “Even if she wasn’t pregnant… the Arishok is twice her size!  What was she thinking?”

 

“She was thinking of everyone,” Varric said.  “Like she always does.  If she hadn’t agreed to the duel, there would have been even more bloodshed.”

 

Of course she did.  Tanwen protected everyone, even if the cost might be her own life.  Even if someone else tried to give her the same level of protection she would not accept it.  

 

The tension drained from Anders suddenly, and his legs collapsed beneath him.  He landed hard on his knees, and put his face in his hands.  “She asked me to use blood magic to save the baby,” he said into his hands.  There was a collective gasp, and he dropped his hands in his lap so he could look up at them.  “Maker help me, but I was tempted to try.”

 

Isabela covered her mouth, and he could see the pain and horror in her expression.  He was too numb now to appreciate it though.  “Just leave,” he said softly.  She nodded, and backed out of the room.

 

Aveline knelt down on one knee next to Anders.  She reached out to touch him, but hesitated at the last moment.  “Is there anything I can do for you?” she asked.

 

The compassion in her voice broke through to Anders, and he gave her a tired smile.  He knew that she was probably needed elsewhere, and he appreciated that she had stayed to find out if Tanwen would be ok. “Thank you, but other than getting the door repaired I think we’ll be alright.”

 

The Guard Captain nodded, and stood.  She offered a hand to assist him to his feet.  “Then I had better go see to my men.  Will you send word to me if anything changes?”

 

“Of course,” Anders said, accepting her outstretched hand.  When she had gone, he turned to Varric and Fenris.  “Where’s Bodahn?  I need his help changing out the bedding.”

 

“He’s down in the cellars looking for materials to repair the door,” Varric answered.

 

“I will help,” Fenris said.

 

Varric offered to stand guard until the door was repaired.  Anders nodded his acceptance.  He was very tired, but there was still so much to do.

 

He ended up carrying Tanwen into the bathing chamber and cleaning her up while Fenris and Orana changed out the bedding.  They were finished by the time Anders had his wife cleaned and wrapped in a quilt he’d taken into the bathing chamber.  The two elves left him alone with her, and he gently laid her down on the bed.  He eased down next to her, careful not to disturb her sleep.

 

His mind whirled with thoughts of the day’s events.  He still had yet to tell Tanwen that Carver was a mage.  Waiting until she was recovered was probably going to be the best approach.  Justice raged in the back of his mind about Isabela’s actions, but as Anders thought about it, he began to feel guilty for the way he’d treated her.

 

 ** _She brought this trouble upon our family!_** Justice thundered in his mind.

 

 _She tried to make up for it,_ Anders thought.   _She could have escaped, but she came back.  And who is to say the Arishok wouldn’t have decided to purify the city even if he’d been given the book earlier?  He’s been on edge for years._

 

Justice grumbled, but accepted the argument.  When he settled down and Anders was left with the peace of his own thoughts, the exhaustion finally caught up with him.  He pulled Tanwen closer in his arms, and fell into a dreamless slumber.


	15. Chapter 15

“Tanwen?” Anders asked quietly.  “Are you awake?”

 

His only answer was a shifting under the quilt that could have been a shrug or a deep sigh.  Gingerly he sat down on the side of the bed and reached out to run his fingers over her side.  Tanwen jerked, and he pulled his hand back reluctantly.  It was difficult for him to not touch her, to feel her, but she recoiled from him and wouldn’t accept any comfort he tried to give her.

 

Not for the first time, Anders wished he had someone to talk to about what was going on.  But who was there to give advice to the healer?  He had dealt with many mothers whose pregnancies ended prematurely, but he didn’t know how to help his own wife through her depression.

 

If anything, it was getting worse.  Especially since she’d found out about Carver’s gift.

 

The boy had mostly slept for a few days after the Qunari attack.  Once he got over the exhaustion, the first thing he’d wanted to do was see his mother.  Anders had hoped it would help, so he had agreed.

 

When Carver crawled into bed with her, she allowed him to cuddle with her, but her eyes remained unfocused.

 

Carver was not oblivious to her mood, and he soon became distressed.  Anders watched sadly as he tried to cheer her up by telling her stories he’d learned from Varric.  They lay on their sides facing each other, and if the mood had been different, it would have been one of those moments that made his fingers itch for charcoal and parchment.

 

“Mama?” Carver said after a while.  He put his small hand on her cheek.  “Why are you sad, Mama?”  Blue light enveloped his fingers where he touched her.  Anders recognized it as the same basic healing spell he used to calm Carver when he was upset.

 

Tanwen’s eyes finally focused on Carver’s so close to her face.  She didn’t say anything, but tears began to leak over the bridge of her nose to drip down onto the pillow below her cheek.

 

Anders’ heart sank when he saw her reaction.  He picked Carver up and carried him out of the room at that point, explaining that his mama was sick before leaving him with Orana and a plate of cookies in the kitchen.  He’d gone back upstairs to check on Tanwen, only to find her curled up under the quilt despite the heat of the summer.

 

“Talk to me, love,” he said softly, once he was seated on the bed next to her.  He brushed his fingers lightly over her long black hair, gently untangling it.

 

“He’s a mage,” Tanwen had murmured flatly.

 

Anders couldn’t tell from her tone how she felt about that, so he kept his response simple.  “Yes,” he said.  When she didn’t say anything else for a long moment, he spoke again.  “Does that bother you?”

 

Tanwen’s shoulders began to shake, and the muffled sound she made could have been laughter, or sobbing.  He suspected it was a little of both.  “Yes,” she finally said in a shaking voice.  “Yes, it bothers me.”

 

His heart thudded painfully at her words, and his hand stilled in her hair.  “Oh.”

 

He hadn’t known what to say, and she hadn’t elaborated.  Eventually her tears stopped and she’d fallen asleep.

 

That was the first night he spent sleeping in Carver’s room.  He told her it was because their son was having nightmares, and he wanted to be nearby in case one of them was a Fade dream.  He doubted she believed it was the whole truth, but she didn’t protest.

 

Now, a week later he still felt uncomfortable being in the room with her.  It no longer felt like their space, and he wondered sadly if it ever would again.  “Tanwen?” he said again, tentatively.

 

“Hm?”

 

He didn’t really want to speak to her like this, with the quilt covering everything except a few tendrils of hair that escaped it.  He wanted to look into her blue eyes, and know that everything would be ok.  Unfortunately, it didn’t seem she would give him that opportunity.  “I came to tell you that I’m going to Lowtown to open the clinic back up.”

 

“Alright.”

 

Just one word, but it was enough to remind him of how much he loved her voice, and how much he missed it.  He wanted to tell her how much he missed her, but couldn’t bring himself to breach the wall she had made out of that quilt.  “Merrill is coming over to keep an eye on Carver.  You know, to make sure he doesn’t burn the house down,” he teased weakly.

 

No answer, just a shrug.  Anders sighed and got up.  He stood at the side of the bed, wondering how to say goodbye.  ‘Have a good day’ somehow seemed wildly inappropriate, but a simple ‘goodbye’ sounded too final.  In the end he said nothing.  He stopped next to the hearth where Barkley was curled up on a rug and scratched the mabari behind both ears.  “Take care of her for me,” he whispered.

 

Barkley gave a soft whuff of agreement and licked his hand, making Anders feel a little better about leaving his wife alone.  He was still torn about it, but he had already been away from the clinic for far too long.

 

Merrill was just arriving when he started down the stairs.  She gave him a tentative smile and a wave.  “How is she?” she asked when he reached the bottom.

 

Anders shook his head.  “I don’t know what to do for her, Merrill,” he admitted.

 

“You’re already doing the best you can,” she said soothingly.  “She just needs time to deal with her grief.”

 

In that moment he was strongly reminded that sometimes there was more to Merrill than the babbling girl with her head in the clouds that he often accused her of being.  Sometimes he could see her training come through, and he thought it was a shame that she would never become Keeper.

 

 ** _She makes deals with demons,_** Justice growled in his mind.

 

 _Everyone makes mistakes,_ Anders thought.   _I’m more afraid she won’t learn from them._  “Thank you for helping me with Carver,” he said out loud.  “You’re very good with children.”

 

“Yes, well taking care of them was a clan duty,” she said brightly, although he thought he detected a twinge of sadness in her eyes.  “I kind of miss that part of being the Keeper’s first.  I got to spend so much time with the young ones.”

 

Anders smiled wanly.  “Well, you’re welcome to spend time with my young one as much as you want,” he said.  Suddenly he frowned.  “Just, no blood magic, please.  It’s going to be difficult enough to keep him safe from demons at such a young age.”

 

Merrill’s delicate brows came together in a frown.  “Especially when he knows that his father is possessed.  His understanding of spirits and demons is going to be affected by that too, you know.”

 

He winced, both at her tone, and the truth in her words.  “I’m sorry Merrill.  I’m just scared for him.  For so many reasons.”  Most of those reasons wore shiny breastplates with flaming swords engraved on them, but he wasn’t fool enough to think that his child would be safe from the dangers that afflicted all mages.  He and Merrill both knew just what kind of pitfalls Carver would face.

 

Especially with an abomination and a blood mage as teachers.

 

Merrill’s frown faded, and she gave him a sympathetic smile.  “I understand,” she said softly.  Her eyes brightened and her smile became the cheerful one he was used to seeing.  “Can I teach him to juggle fireballs?”

 

Anders groaned.  “How about you start with something that won’t endanger Tanwen’s very expensive collection of books?”

 

“Oh alright,” Merrill teased.  “Party pooper.”

 

Opening the clinic again felt strange.  Somehow the needs of Kirkwall’s poor never changed, despite the changes in the city.  It was easy to lose himself in their problems and ignore his own, and it was cathartic to feel needed again.  

 

That first day back to work ended up being longer than he’d planned.  He had intended to only light the lantern for a few hours, and then get things cleaned up so that he could get back home to spend time with Carver before his bedtime.  Unfortunately, the best laid plans were nothing more than slightly entertaining jokes to the Maker.  A gang war between the scruffy youths of the Undercity brought him plenty of patients.

 

It was late evening before he was able to finally put out the lantern outside his door, and he still needed to clean up the clinic.  And restock the bandages, and the potions.  As he worked, he found more and more things to keep his attention.

 

If he was honest with himself, he was just looking for excuses to avoid going home.  The quiet atmosphere and the general gloominess in the estate were getting to him.  As the days passed and Tanwen showed little to no interest in anything or anyone, he found himself growing angry with her.  He didn’t want to feel that way, because he understood that mothers who lost their children could sink into deep depression so easily.  But as he carefully poured the elfroot potion he’d been brewing all day into flasks, the anger inside of him grew until he felt like he was going choke on it.

 

It was his child too.  How dare she accuse him of not wanting to save it?  And how could she be so callous towards their son?  Carver was too young to understand what was going on.  And it wasn’t his fault that he was a mage.  That he was _cursed_ like his father.

 

Hot liquid splashed all over his workbench as his hands began to shake, and he quickly put down the ladle he’d been using to fill the flasks.  Anders braced both hands on the stained wood of the long table and stared blindly at the herbs stacked neatly next to empty flasks with corks waiting in a small pile nearby.  He could feel his heart start to pound as the anger built up.  He gasped for breath and tried to calm himself, but he was failing.

 

With an angry grunt he swept his arm across the table, ruining a day’s worth of work, and feeling no relief.  He sank down to his knees next to the table, clutching its edge as if trying to lift himself out of his despair.

 

Anders closed his eyes.  He could picture Tanwen nursing a child while Carver practiced an illusion of a cat for Barkley to chase around the house.  He could see himself falling asleep with a tow-headed baby girl on his chest while next to him Tanwen read a story to Carver who was cuddled up in her lap.

 

Laughing with Tanwen as another dark haired son wrestled with a new mabari puppy.  Barkley lounged nearby watching the tussle with his tongue hanging from his mouth with Carver leaned against him and cheering for the puppy just to make his brother upset.

 

Two pairs of eyes staring at Varric in rapt attention as he told blatantly over exaggerated tales of Tanwen’s adventures while she protested that he was going to give her children nightmares.

 

Image after image of domestic bliss flashed through his mind.  His anger grew as his imagination wandered.  He understood Tanwen’s loss, because it was also his own.

 

“Anders?”


	16. Chapter 16

Anders froze at the sound of Tanwen’s voice.  Quickly he dashed the tears from his cheeks with the back of one hand while he stood up.  Unsure whether he could hold himself together if he looked at her, he began trying to clean up the mess he’d made of his work bench.  “Tanwen,” he said huskily.  “What are you doing here?  Is everything ok?”   _Something must have happened,_ he thought worriedly.  Of all the things he’d expected, the last one was to see Tanwen out and about.  She had barely left their bed, much less their room in the last week.

 

“Merrill told me you hadn’t come home, and she was worried about you,” Tanwen said softly.

 

Anders winced.  He shouldn’t have assumed that Merrill would stay all day to keep an eye on Carver.  “I’m sorry,” he said.  “I lost track of time.  I’ll have to do something to make it up to her.”

 

Tanwen’s footsteps echoed in the empty clinic as she came closer.  “She didn’t seem to mind,” she murmured.  “I was worried though.”

 

He was going to have to turn and face her, but he wasn’t quite ready because now that he knew there wasn’t a crisis that brought her down to the clinic, his anger rushed back to replace his worry.  He kept wiping the table absently with a cloth just as stained as the wood.  “How are you feeling?” he asked.  There was a long silence that made Anders’ shoulders tense as he waited for her answer.  When she did speak he was surprised at what she had to say.

 

“You’re angry with me, aren’t you?”

 

He thought about lying, but this was the most she’d spoken since the night he’d healed her and he didn’t want to give her reason to stop.  The fact that she was actually up and out of the estate… well he was grateful, but at the moment it wasn’t enough to soothe the anger coursing through him.  “Yes, I am,” he said.

 

“I’m sorry,” she said.  “I have just been so very tired.”

 

Anders dropped his chin to his chest.  Anger and guilt warred inside of him.  “I know,” he choked out.  “It’s ok.”

 

“Obviously, it isn’t ok,” Tanwen said as she came closer.  She put her hand on his shoulder, and he found himself wishing he were not wearing his coat so he could feel each individual finger and the long nails at the tips digging into his skin.  “Talk to me, Anders.”

 

He didn’t answer right away.  He wasn’t sure how.

 

“I’m sorry about the baby.  But I had no choice.  The Arishok-“

 

Anders spun around, knocking her hand from his shoulder.  He stared at her incredulously.  “You think I blame you for losing the baby?”  Vaguely he realized she was not wearing her leathers or her dagger harness, and his anger grew stronger over the fact that she came down to Darktown unarmed.  A quick glance around showed him that she hadn’t even brought Barkley with her.  

 

 ** _The entrance to the estate isn’t that far,_** Justice reminded him.

 

Anders just barely kept from grinding his teeth.   _That doesn’t matter.  Darktown is dangerous, and what if I hadn’t been here?  Would she have gone looking for me?  She obviously hasn’t been herself lately, and she might have put herself in danger._

 

Tanwen’s blue eyes dropped away from his, and she brushed tendrils of loose black hair behind her ears.  It was damp, as if she’d just bathed.  “But the duel…”

 

“Varric filled me in.  I know it couldn’t have been avoided.”  He’d even apologized to Isabela for tearing into her the day of the duel.  He really did understand why she had done what she had.  In the end, Isabela had come back, and that meant a lot.

 

“Was it because I asked you to use blood magic?” Tanwen asked in a small voice, still refusing to look up at him.

 

Anders felt his control over his anger slip a little at the reminder.  “I still can’t believe you asked me that.  You _know_ how I feel about it.”

 

Tanwen looked up at him, and there was a flash of something defiant in her blue eyes for just a moment before she looked away again.  “I was desperate.”  When Anders rolled his eyes and made a scoffing sound, her eyes came back to his, and this time she was definitely glaring at him.  She poked him in the chest, right on the scar above his heart.  “You and Justice made a deal with each other to protect yourselves.  You told me that if he hadn’t joined with you, those Wardens would have killed you.  Don’t you dare judge me.”

 

“Yes!” Anders snapped, no longer able to hold back his anger.  “A spirit, but not a demon!  You wanted me to do _blood magic_ , Tanwen.  Can’t you imagine for a moment how that would have twisted our child?  Don’t you remember what it did to your mother?”

 

Tanwen’s eyes widened in alarm.  “I didn’t think-“

 

“No, you didn’t!” Anders railed.  “But that’s alright.  You were desperate, and I understand that.  But- “He snapped his mouth shut.  He didn’t want to fight with her.  Not now, when what he really wanted was to be happy that she was awake and talking to him.

 

“But what?” Tanwen asked.  When Anders didn’t answer she grabbed the front of his coat with one hand and shook him lightly.  “What, Anders?”

 

Closing his eyes, Anders reached up with both hands and ran his fingers through his hair.  “I can’t believe you love Carver less just because he’s a mage,” he whispered.

 

“What?”  Tanwen gripped his coat with both hands now.  “You think I love Carver less?” she demanded in a surprised tone.

 

“I saw the way you reacted when you found out,” Anders said.  “You were so upset.”

 

Tanwen thumped a fist against his chest, surprising him into looking at her.  Her normally pale skin was flushed, and she was glaring daggers at him.  “Of course I’m upset!” she yelled.  She hit him in the chest again.  “My family was hunted by Templars my whole life!  My sister is in the Gallows!  I’m married to an apostate!  I live in constant fear that Bethany could be punished with a Tranquility brand, or that some day the Templars will hear about the healer in the free clinic in Darktown and you’ll be captured!  And now I learn that my _son_ has to live with those same threats hanging over his head for the rest of his life!”

 

Tanwen’s voice broke on the last word, and she pulled her fist back to punch him again, but there was no strength behind it this time.  When she began to cry, Anders pulled her into his arms and let her sob against his neck.  His own eyes burned with tears and he didn’t resist letting them fall.  He pressed his cheek against the top of her head.  “I’m sorry,” he murmured.  He wasn’t sure what he was apologizing for; there were so many things.

 

“I just wish…”  Tanwen didn’t finish the thought, but Anders knew what she meant.

 

_I wish my family did not have to suffer._

 

_I wish for just a little bit of peace._

 

_I wish it wasn’t always up to me to fix things._

 

“Maybe I would feel better if I had someone to blame,” she said eventually, the words muffled by the feathers near her mouth.

 

“Ser Varnel for killing the Qunari delegate,” Anders said.

 

“Sister Petrice for being a zealot,” Tanwen replied.

 

“Definitely blame the Arishok.”

 

Tanwen gave a watery chuckle, and the sound warmed Anders’ heart.  “Well, he was just following his precious doctrine.  Let’s blame the Qun.”

 

“Well by that logic, we wouldn’t have pissed him off if we weren’t Andrastians.  So let’s blame Andraste,” Anders replied with a smile against her hair.

 

“Yes, let’s blame her.  I never liked her anyway.”

 

“Me too,” Anders said.  “She’s a total bitch.”

 

They were both silent for a moment as they considered the blasphemy, then they both broke into laughter.  Tanwen pulled back enough to look up at Anders as she wiped the tears from her eyes with the heel of one hand.  “Oh Maker,” she said once her laughter had calmed enough.  “We are horrible.”

 

Anders grinned down at her, enjoying the sight of her smile after such a long time without it.  When she reached up with both hands to wipe the tears from his cheeks with her thumbs, he sobered.  “I’m sorry I was angry,” he said.  “I just-“

 

Tanwen stopped him by pressing both thumbs over his lips.  “Shh… We’re both sorry.  No need to say more.”

 

Anders kissed the pads of her thumbs.  She was wrong.  There was so much to say.   _I love you.  I didn’t know if I’d ever see you smile again.  Please don’t scare me like that again._  But she didn’t seem to need words.  Her eyes dropped to his mouth, and her lips parted on a soft gasp.  Encouraged by her reaction, he opened his mouth and licked one of her thumbs, then gently began to suckle on it.  

 

Tanwen leaned forward, and he let go of her thumb so that he could meet her mouth with his, crushing her lips under his.  Her hands slipped into the opening of his coat and caressed his chest through the thin fabric of his tunic for a moment before her deft fingers started pulling it up to expose his stomach.  His muscles jumped under the light brush of her nails on his skin.

 

“Tanwen,” he breathed against her mouth as her fingers dipped just below his belt.  “Love, I want you, but are you sure?”

 

She nipped his bottom lip, and then his jaw before she pulled back enough to look at him.  “Anders, I need you to touch me.”

 

He could see the desperate longing in her eyes, and he understood that it wasn’t just his touch that she needed.  She needed a reminder that she was alive, despite all the death she had seen.  He understood, because right now it was what he needed too.

 

No longer able to resist, Anders dipped and grabbed her thighs, lifting her so that they spread to each side of his waist.  He turned and set her on the workbench, uncaring whether the spilled elfroot potion stained her clothing.  He didn’t resist when she wrapped her hands around his neck and pulled him down for another kiss.  The feel of her tongue against his made him groan.

 

He had just enough sense to put a warding spell over the door to make sure no one decided to interrupt, so he could focus on nothing else but the woman in his arms.  The room filled with the sound of their moans and whimpers as they explored each other through the barrier of their clothing.

 

“Off,” Tanwen ordered as her fingers worked at the buckles of his coat.  

 

Anders allowed her to push the coat away from his shoulders, and let it fall to the ground at his feet.  Once he was free of it, he pulled his shirt off over his head quickly so that he could go back to tasting her.

 

He trailed kisses over her jaw to her ear and sucked gently on the lobe as he unlaced her shirt and pushed it down over her shoulders to pool around her waist.  Unwilling to pull away, he tore her camisole down the center, making her gasp and then giggle at his aggression.

 

Her amusement was cut short when he cupped both of her breasts in his hands.  When he dipped his head down to suckle one nipple roughly, her fingers came up to grip his hair and hold him in place.

 

“More,” Tanwen breathed as she watched him.

 

He tilted his head enough that he could meet her eyes while still worshipping her with his mouth.  Her eyes were dilated and her lips were swollen, and he couldn’t resist kissing her again.  She made a sound of protest when his lips left her breast, but she sighed into him when his fingers began tweaking the sensitive peaks.

 

The feel of her nails against his scalp sent goose bumps down his spine and he shivered against her.  He wanted to push her back on the table and bury himself inside her, but first he needed to show her how much he loved her, because words could never be enough.  He slid the palm of one hand down over her stomach until he reached the tie of the trousers she wore.  Deftly he pulled the knot free then pushed his fingers under the cloth, through the thatch of curly hair and lower to find her already slick for him.

 

He found the sensitive nub of flesh that made her whole body arch against him in pleasure and gently caressed it between two fingers.  Tanwen broke the kiss and her head fell back on her shoulders.  He had to wrap his other arm around her back to hold her up as she began to tilt backwards.  Instead he forced her to press her chest against his so he could feel the weight of her breasts, and feel her nipples rasp against his skin.

 

“Anders,” Tanwen whimpered.

 

The position he held her in made it difficult for her to move, and he could tell she wanted more.  “Tell me what you want,” he demanded against the fluttering pulse in her neck.

 

“I want you inside me,” she answered breathlessly.

 

He moved his hand until he was able to slip his fingers inside of her, and used his thumb to continue to rub against the sensitive nub of nerves.  He slowly moved his fingers inside of her in deep caresses, a taste of what he was going to do when he finally joined with her.  Occasionally he curled his fingers inward, rubbing against the sensitive wall in an uneven pattern until she was begging him to make her come.

 

“Please,” she begged.  “It’s not enough.”

 

Anders finally showed mercy on her.  He allowed her to lie back on the table, and despite her protests, removed his fingers.  Making sure she was watching he put his fingers in his mouth to savor her unique taste for a moment.  He freed her from the rest of her clothing, and unlaced his own trousers.  He let them fall to his knees as he pulled her hips closer to the edge of the table.  With one hand around her thigh, he used his other hand to guide himself into her wet body, and they both groaned as he pushed deep inside.

 

He leaned over her on the table and pressed a kiss against her collarbone, then another almost chaste kiss to her lips.  “I love you,” he said against her mouth as he began to gently rock into her.

 

“Love me harder,” Tanwen gasped.

 

Anders chuckled darkly and obeyed.  He grabbed her hips and shifted them upward slightly to get a better angle, and knew he’d done the right thing when she wailed.  He could feel her body squeezing him tightly as she orgasmed around him.  Once wasn’t enough for him though.  He stood up straight and wrapped his hands around her thighs where they met her hips and pumped into her even harder.

 

Tanwen covered her face like she always did when she was overwhelmed and began babbling incoherently as she began to crest again.  And when he still didn’t stop she began rocking her head back and forth.  When he felt like he couldn’t hold back his own release any longer, he let go of one of her thighs so that he could rub her center with this thumb, forcing her to come again just as he felt the tightening in his groin that heralded his own orgasm.  The feel of her squeezing him as he spilled inside her made his knees go weak and he collapsed forward to brace his hands on the table in order to keep upright while he gasped for breath.  

 

Tanwen wrapped her legs around his waist, and let her hands fall from her face to lie palm up on the table to either side of her head.  When he finally had enough strength to lift his head and look at her, she was smiling at him softly.

 

“Thank you,” she said.  “I needed that.”

 

“So did I,” Anders said with a smile of his own.  He felt the stress of the last few weeks leak out of his muscles.

 

Tanwen reached up with one hand and stroked his cheek, smiling wider when he turned to kiss her palm.  “Let’s go home,” she murmured.

 

 _I am home,_ he thought.  And he realized it was true.  He despised Kirkwall, but he would stay forever just to be with her.  His home was at her side.


	17. Chapter 17

It was nearly midnight by the time Anders and Tanwen entered the kitchen through the hidden entrance.  Bodahn had waited up for them, as he usually did.  He smiled at them, obviously happy that they were alright.

 

“It’s good to see you up and about Mistress,” he said to Tanwen.  “We’ve been mighty worried about you.”

 

Tanwen blushed.  “Thank you Bodahn.  I’m sorry for worrying you.”

 

The dwarf waved away her apology.  “No need for that now.  Would you like something to eat before you retire?” he asked.  “I could make up a few sandwiches for you.”

 

Anders and Tanwen looked at each other.  “I could use some food,” Anders said with a teasing smile.  “I’ve burned through quite a bit of energy today.”  He lifted a hand and wiggled his fingers, letting a spark of electricity bounce between each digit.  “You know… healing.”

 

Tanwen nodded somberly, although her eyes twinkled.  “Oh yes.  You’d better eat something.  In case you need to do any more healing tonight.”

 

Bodahn grinned widely.  “Would you like me to bring up a tray?”

 

“I think we’ll just eat in here,” Tanwen said as she moved to take a seat at the table in the center of the kitchen.  “I’ve spent enough time in my room for a while.”

 

Anders joined her at the table, and they leaned against each other while they listened to Bodahn chattering.  He fixed them way too much food, but they made an honest effort to do the meal justice before retiring to their room.

 

Tanwen hesitated at the top of the stairs.  “I’m just going to check on Carver,” she said.

 

Anders nodded and followed her.  When they opened the door to their son’s room, he cast a wisp spell and held it above his palm to light the room.  Carver was asleep on his side, a thumb in his mouth, and his arm wrapped around the stuffed mabari that Varric had given him on his first nameday.  Barkley had been sleeping on the foot of the bed, but he lifted his head to look at them when the door opened.  His jaw sagged open and his tongue lolled out when he saw Tanwen.

 

“Is he going to be alright by himself?” Tanwen whispered.

 

Anders nodded.  “He’ll be ok.  I’ve got the room warded against accidental fires, and anything else I can think of that I saw happen when I was in the Circle.  I only stayed in here because…” he trailed off, not wanting to bring up the things they’d already agreed to stop apologizing for.  “Barkley will wake him if he has nightmares.”

 

Tanwen nodded her understanding and walked over to the bed.  She knelt down and brushed Carver’s black hair away from his face.  She sat there for several minutes gently stroking his cheek, while Anders waited in the doorway.

 

 _This is what every mage child should have,_ he thought.

 

 ** _Then we will give it to them,_** Justice replied.

 

After a while, Tanwen leaned forward and kissed Carver’s forehead, whispering something that Anders didn’t catch.  He didn’t need to.  He had a good idea.  She pushed herself to her feet and rubbed Barkley’s jowls with both hands, then gave him a kiss on his wet nose before turning back to Anders.  She took his hand again, leading him to their room.

 

They made love again, although this time Tanwen took control.  Anders did not argue, and let her touch him.  With her hands, her mouth, and even her whole body as she held herself over him.  He only lost control near the end when he grabbed her hips and pushed deep inside of her, filling her completely.

 

When they were sated, Tanwen sat astride Anders’ hips and trailed her fingers through the sweat on his chest.  “Anders?”

 

“Yes, love?” he murmured.

 

“Will I still be able to have children?” she asked softly.

 

He should have known the topic would come up.  He ran his hands up and down her arms gently.  “Probably,” he answered.

 

Her mouth curved up in a relieved smile, and she leaned down to kiss him before slipping to his side to lie down.  They fell asleep spooned together, Anders cupping her body with his protectively.  He felt a twinge of regret, which piqued Justice’s curiosity.

 

**_Why regret?_ **

 

_Sometimes I feel that this is the only protection I can ever offer her._

 

**_You’ve saved her life._ **

 

 _I should be able to keep her out of danger in the first place,_ Anders thought sleepily.   _But if I tried, she would not love me for it._

 

**_She is brave and true.  A true shining light of Justice._ **

 

Anders sighed against Tanwen’s hair.   _Yes.  She is all of that._

 

**_Words do not feel sufficient._ **

 

 _No, they don’t_ , Anders thought as he finally slipped into slumber.  He slept deeply, unaware that Justice opened his eyes, bathing Tanwen in blue light, and watched her sleep.

 

A few hours later the bedroom door slipped open, and Justice watched as first Barkley, then Carver entered the room.  His son padded silently across the room, dragging his favorite blanket behind him, and tried to climb up on the bed.  He wasn’t quite tall enough.  Justice let go of Tanwen enough to lean over and grasp Carver’s hand to pull him up while Barkley gave him a boost.

 

Carver crawled in between him and Tanwen and curled up under his tattered red blanket.  Tanwen woke, and smiled at their son as she rolled over to wrap an arm around the boy and pull him close.  She glanced up at Justice and her smile widened slightly.  He knew she recognized him, and it felt good that she didn’t fear him like so many did.  Very few mortals reacted well to his presence.

 

Justice reached out and brushed his fingers through the hair at her temple as he’d done many times before, whether Anders controlled the gesture, or he did it himself.  “You worried us,” he grumbled softly.  

 

“I know,” Tanwen said.  “I’ll be alright.”

 

“We will make sure of it.”

 

Tanwen’s smile widened into an amused grin.  “You’re so certain.”

 

Justice scowled.  “There should be no room for doubt.”

 

His wife’s grin faded and she sighed tiredly.  “That would be lovely,” she said.  She looked down and brushed her fingers through Carver’s hair.  “If you had to decide between protecting me and protecting Carver, who would you choose?”

 

Confusion rippled through him.  “I would choose both.”

 

“The rules do not allow you to choose both,” Tanwen admonished.  “Pick one, and only one.”

 

“What rules?  I do not understand this line of questioning,” Justice huffed in frustration.

 

Tanwen watched him solemnly for a moment.  “Choose Carver,” she said.  “It’s what I would do.  If you search his heart, it is what Anders would choose as well.”

 

Justice let his senses sink deep into Anders’ soul, to the bright center where all his strongest emotions flowered.  He flinched away at the raw power of his love for his family.  But as he examined what he found, he learned that Tanwen was right.  He focused on Tanwen again.  “Why?” he asked simply.

 

“Because he is a little bit of both of us,” Tanwen answered.

 

Justice wasn’t entirely sure he understood, but he nodded.  “I will not let it come to that,” he promised solemnly.  He believed he understood what she asked of him, but he vowed to himself to do everything in his power to avoid such a situation.  He loved Tanwen as much as he loved Carver.  It would be an injustice to let go of either of them.

  


Carver made a growling noise and reached up to cover Justice’s eyes, blocking off their glow.  “Daddy, go to sleep,” he mumbled.

 

Tanwen giggled and hugged Carver closer to her body.  Justice settled for wrapping his arm around both of them.  He closed his eyes, and listened to them breathe as he spent the rest of the night considering Tanwen’s words.  


	18. Chapter 18

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Three Years Later

**PART THREE**

**  
**

Anders came awake slowly.  He became aware of Tanwen’s body nestled in his arms before he knew that he was no longer sleeping.  Her back was pressed against his chest, and his pillow was covered with her silky black hair.  He turned his head slightly so he could bury his nose in it and inhale her scent.  It smelled of the herbs she used for bathing, and it made him smile.

 

More awake now, he realized his arm was wrapped around her, pulling her tight, his hand resting just below one of her breasts.  He slid his fingers up until they cupped her softness, and he groaned quietly when he felt her nipple harden under his palm.  He massaged it gently while he began to place soft kisses along the back of her shoulders.

 

Tanwen responded with a mumble, and shifted her hips backwards.

 

Taking that as an invitation, Anders nudged back.  Their bodies began to move together, and that’s when he knew she was also awake.  “Good morning,” he murmured against the back of her ear.

 

“Better when you’re here to wake me up,” Tanwen replied breathily.

 

Anders flicked his tongue against her earlobe.  “Hm, yes.  I’ll endeavor to sleep in more often.”

 

Tanwen turned in his arms and kissed him softly while she continued to undulate her hips against his.  One of her hands slid down his chest, and then even further to cup his hardness in her fingers, and he thrust against her in encouragement.

 

This was always his favorite way to wake up.   _It’s going to be a fine day,_ he thought cheerfully as he rolled over on top of his wife.

 

The door flew open with a bang, and Carver raced into the room with Barkley at his heels.  “Mom!  Dad!  Wake up!”

 

Anders groaned and pressed his forehead against Tanwen’s.  “Let’s sell him into slavery,” he joked hoarsely.

 

Tanwen chuckled.  “After all the trouble we’ve gone through to clear the slavers out of Kirkwall?” she asked softly against his mouth.  “They would flee in terror before we could offer him to them free of charge.”

 

“Good point,” Anders said with a grin as he pushed himself off of her and leaned up on an elbow to see what Carver wanted.  Tanwen sat up next to him with the blanket pulled up to cover herself.  “What is it?” Anders asked curiously as Carver scrambled up onto the foot of the bed.

 

Barkley also crawled up onto the bed.  Slowly, and with more effort than it used to take him.  Tanwen’s mabari was getting old, and it was beginning to show.  The dog still kept a protective eye on the family but Anders wondered what he would do when he couldn’t keep up with Carver’s energy anymore.  They could always look into getting a puppy, but somehow it didn’t seem right to have anything other than a mabari and unfortunately they were bred almost exclusively in Ferelden.

 

 _It might be time for a trip,_ Anders thought.

 

 ** _We can’t abandon our mission,_** Justice replied.

 

Anders mentally rolled his eyes and focused his attention on Carver.

 

“Aunt Aveline is here,” Carver said.  He scrunched up his face and looked up at the ceiling.  “She said to tell you to ‘quit being lazy slugabeds, and get your pos- post- posteriors down here.’”  When he was finished, he smiled widely at them.  “I think that word means arses.”

 

“Carver!” Tanwen scolded, while Anders laughed.  “Where are you learning words like that?”

 

Carver shrugged.  “I learned it from dad,” he said.

 

Anders’ laughter cut off when Tanwen glared at him, and he gave her a sheepish smile.  “Sorry.  You know my temper controls my mouth sometimes.”

 

Tanwen punched him in the arm, hard.  Anders winced and grabbed his arm, rubbing the sore muscle.  “Ow,” he said with a pout.  “That’s probably going to bruise.”

 

Carver reached out and put his hand over Anders’ and the soreness faded as the boy sent warm tendrils of healing magic into the developing bruise.  “Sorry for swearing,” he said sheepishly when they both looked at him in surprise.  

 

Anders grinned and pulled Carver into his arms for a tight hug.  “That’s my boy,” he said.  It filled him with pride that his son was a natural healer.  He had even started getting into Anders’ healing tomes, trying to figure things out that most apprentices didn’t learn until they were years older.

 

“Da-aad,” Carver whined.  He was getting to the age where public displays of affection from his parents bothered him, even when in the privacy of their own home.  “Let go.”

 

Anders gave Carver a smacking kiss on the cheek, making the boy squirm.  “Alright,” he said with a smile before he let him go.  “And no more swearing in front of your mother.”

 

“No more _swearing_ ,” Tanwen interjected.

 

“Can I still go to the Hanged Man if I don’t swear?” Carver asked plaintively.  “Dad said he would take me today.”

 

Tanwen sighed in resignation.  She’d been extremely upset when she’d found out that Carver had even been to the Tavern, but Varric and Isabela kept a close eye on him.  Plus Corff and all the waitresses were protective of him, so she’d given up on trying to keep him out of the place.  “Alright.  But you stay in Varric’s suite unless you’re with someone who can watch over you.”

 

“You could come with us,” Anders offered.  “We’re going for lunch when I drop off my manifesto for Varric.”

 

“I can’t,” she said with a grimace.  “I have a meeting with Meredith today.  Aveline agreed to accompany me.”

 

Anders’ heart sped up with worry and anger.  “Why does Meredith want to see you?” he demanded.  “Is she still paranoid that every other mage is practicing blood magic?”

 

Tanwen’s mouth twisted as if she had something sour in her mouth.  “I don’t know.  But I have to meet with her.”

 

Because of Bethany.  They both understood the consequences to Tanwen’s sister, although they rarely spoke of it. Anders sighed in resignation and wrapped an arm around her shoulders, pulling her close and pressing his lips against her temple.  “We’ll get her out,” he whispered.  Tanwen nodded, and he was glad that she still believed the words despite the fact that even he was beginning to doubt them.  Meredith used Bethany as a collar and leash for the city’s Champion, and she wasn’t about to let her only leverage escape.

 

Especially if Tanwen accepted the Viscount’s seat.  That would give Meredith a puppet on the throne and make her even more powerful.

 

“Are you done being gross yet?”

 

Tanwen began to laugh, and Anders turned to see that Carver had both hands over his eyes.  He reached out and poked the boy in the stomach.  “Why don’t you go away and let us be gross in private?” he teased.  “I’ll come find you when it’s time to go.  Tell Aunt Aveline we’ll be down in a few minutes.”

 

Carver scrambled off the bed and left the room, Barkley trailing after him as usual.  Of course he left the door wide open behind him.  Anders waved his fingers at the portal, and the door swung shut.  He turned to Tanwen with a grin.  “Where were we?”

 

“I don’t remember,” she answered, her blue eyes twinkling with mischief.  “You’ll have to show me.”

 

“With Aveline waiting for us downstairs?” Anders asked as he began to push Tanwen back down into the pillows.  “Naughty.  You know we probably only have about ten minutes before she sends Carver back up here to fetch us.”

 

Tanwen’s grin was positively wicked.  “If you do your electricity thing, that should be plenty of time,” she said breathlessly.

 

Anders held up a hand and let the sparks travel between his fingertips.  “Good point,” he replied just before he covered her smiling lips with his own.

 

They took longer than ten minutes, and the slight blush on Aveline’s cheeks when they finally made it downstairs told them that she probably knew what they had been doing.  Anders winked at her, making the Guard Captain flush even darker.

 

“Oh don’t give us that look,” Tanwen teased.  “You’re married.  You understand.”

 

Aveline’s mouth relaxed out of the sourly disapproving frown into a half smile.  “Yes, but we keep our schedules.”

 

“Please don’t tell me you schedule those kinds of things,” Anders said with a laugh.  “Do you keep it in your appointment ledger?  I’ll bet that would make your assistant very uncomfortable.”

 

Aveline frowned again.  “No, of course not.  It just means that we don’t let it distract us from important matters.”

 

Anders smirked.  “Someone is doing something wrong then.”

 

“Anders,” Tanwen scolded, although she couldn’t quite hide her amusement.

 

He shrugged and smiled back unrepentantly.  “I’m just saying.”

 

Tanwen gave an unladylike snort before changing the subject.  “When are you going to the clinic today?” she asked him.

 

“After I deliver my newest Manifesto to Varric.”

 

Aveline cleared her throat, bringing their attention back to her.  “That’s not a good idea,” she said with a worried frown.  “Meredith is sending extra patrols into Darktown.”

 

“What?” Anders asked incredulously.  “Why?”

 

“I think she’s after you,” Aveline answered.  “Donnic overheard some of them speaking in the Guard Barracks.  They’re supposed to be watching for an apostate healer.”

 

“Maker damn that bitch,” Tanwen growled.  “He’s _helping_ people who can’t afford to pay her huge fees for ‘legal’ healing.  I’m going to give her a piece of my mind when I see her today!”

 

Anders winced as Justice began ranting in the back of his mind.  “No, love,” he said.  “I’ll just lie low for a while.  If you say anything to her it will confirm for her where I am, and reveal that you know about me.”

 

Tanwen wilted.  “You’re right,” she said softly.  Her blue eyes were filled with worry for him.  “I just hate to see you cooped up here all day.”

 

It certainly wasn’t his first choice either.  Being idle was difficult when there was a spirit in his head constantly demanding that he do more for the Cause.  Justice had mellowed over the last few years, but only because Anders kept himself busy with deeds the spirit approved of.  The clinic was a large part of that, especially since the mage underground had started to fall apart when Bethany’s role in it was revealed.  “I’ll be fine,” he said.  “I will just spend more time with Carver’s lessons.”

 

Tanwen nodded uncertainly, but didn’t argue any further.  She and Aveline said their goodbyes and left for their meeting at the Gallows.


	19. Chapter 19

Anders slumped down on the bench in the entryway and put his head in his hands.  He felt heartsick that he would need to keep the clinic closed because of the new patrols.  Since losing Bethany as a contact inside the Gallows, he’d focused primarily on his work in Darktown in order to feel like he wasn’t abandoning his cause.  Healing the poor gave him satisfaction, and using his magic for the good of man was a flagrant double finger to the Templars.

 

 ** _We must do something about this,_** Justice demanded.   ** _First she imprisons the innocent, and now she denies those in need of our care._**

 

_What would you suggest?_

 

**_It is time for a frontal assault on the Gallows.  The Templars must be wiped out._ **

 

Anders snorted.   _If only it were that simple._

 

**_Why is it not?_ **

 

_We’re outnumbered.  And innocents could be hurt in the battle._

 

**_They should join us.  If they do not, then they are partially to blame._ **

 

Anders agreed.  Mages outnumbered the Templars, especially in Kirkwall where there seemed to be an unusually large population of them.  If the mages banded together, they could free themselves.  Yes, some would probably die in the battle, but if they knew what it felt like to be free and to have friends and a family like Anders did, they would probably consider it worth the risk.  Unfortunately, they had been trained from childhood to fear the Templars, and even themselves.

 

Anders thought that was the worst injustice of all.  He wasn’t the only mage in the Circle who had the spark of self worth that the Templars could never fully extinguish.  He remembered meeting the future Warden Commander not too long before the escape attempt that had earned him a year in solitary.  Young Aiden had been in the library arguing quietly with one of the other apprentices who believed she was cursed by the Maker and was thinking of requesting the Rite of Tranquility.  Aiden had eventually thrown his hands up in disgust and walked away, making Anders chuckle at his spunk.  When they’d met outside the Circle they’d become quick friends.

 

But unfortunately, he and Aiden were rare among their brethren.  Many mages would not risk their fragile safety for a revolution.  The only thing he could think of that would make them band together and fight would be something as drastic as the threat of someone invoking the Right of Annulment, but that wouldn’t be something the Templars would announce up front.

 

 _They will not fight unless pushed into it,_ he thought.   _And I can think of nothing that would allow the innocent to be safe._

 

**_It would be worth it for the survivors._ **

 

“Dad?” Carver said as he peeked around the edge of the door leading into the main hall.  “What are you doing out here?  Are we still going to see Uncle Varric?”

 

Anders didn’t answer for a moment as he looked at his son.  He was for tall his seven years.  His black hair was cut short and poked out in every direction in unruly spikes, his eyes the same shape and shade as his father’s, although his face was definitely from his mother.  Powerful for a child, but more interested in using his power to help than to harm.  He was lucky to be free, especially in Kirkwall.  There were many boys and girls his age who would never know freedom.  They would never have families of their own, or the joy of making their own path in life.

 

 _There must be more that I can do,_ he thought.

 

**_This cannot continue.  In war, there will be losses._ **

 

 _Would you be so quick to allow those losses if Carver were in the Circle too?_ Anders asked silently.  Justice faltered at the question, his attention suddenly also focused on their son.

 

**_I don’t… no.  No, I would not risk our son._ **

 

Anders smiled tiredly at the spirit, and at his son both.  “Yes, we’re still going.  Are you ready?”

 

“I’ve been ready,” Carver said with a roll of his eyes.

 

The gesture made Anders chuckle as he pushed himself to his feet.  The littlest Hawke definitely got his attitude from his father.  He didn’t have a diplomatic bone in his body, and always spoke what he was thinking.  Maybe that spontaneity wasn’t a good thing, but Anders had no room to judge.  “Alright,” he said.  “Get me my staff, and we’ll go.”

 

After he’d gathered the manuscript for his manifesto, and Carver had come running back with his staff, they left for the Hanged Man.  The tavern smelled of cheap alcohol and last night’s vomit, and there were at least two patrons passed out at their tables despite the time.  Not that the place ever really seemed to slow down.  It was just a little more mellow during the day.  The regulars were used to seeing Anders with his son, and many of them waved to the boy as they made their way up to Varric’s suite, but he kept his staff in his hand anyway.  You never knew when a drunk was going to try something inappropriate.

 

Varric was seated in his large chair at the head of the long table in the common room of his suite.  He had a pair of spectacles perched on his nose and he was reading the pages of what Anders suspected was the latest installment of Hard in Hightown, judging by the smirk on the dwarf’s face.

 

When Varric noticed them, he set the papers down and smiled widely in welcome.  “Well well, if isn’t Daddy Hawke and his Fledgling.  No Mama Hawke today?”  He held his arms open for a hug and Carver went running to comply.  He may not like the attention from his parents, but Varric always got his hugs.

 

“Another meeting with the Knight-Commander,” Anders said with a grimace.  He took a seat next to Varric and grabbed an apple from the bowl at the center of the table.  It crunched satisfyingly when he bit into it.  He was starving because his morning activities had not given him time for breakfast.  Not that he was complaining.

 

Varric gave a grunt and shook his head.  “For disliking each other so much, those two seem to be having a lot more meetings.”  He turned to Carver and gave him a suspicious look.  “Does your mother know you are here, Fledgling?”

 

“Hey,” Anders protested.  “I’m his father.  He doesn’t need her permission.”

 

“You keep telling yourself that, Blondie,” Varric answered with a smile.

 

Carver tugged on Varric’s shirtsleeve to regain his attention.  “She knows I’m here,” he said.  “Do you have any new stories?”  His eyes were shining with excitement.  Varric had started writing children’s tales around the time that Carver had learned to read, and he always let the boy read them before having them reprinted for the public.

 

“Over there,” Varric said with a tilt of his head toward his desk. “The stack of papers on the left.”  Carver grinned and rushed over to grab the papers.  He was already starting to read them before he settled on the bench across from Anders.

 

“So is this just a social visit?” Varric asked Anders.

 

Anders pulled his manuscript out of his coat and handed it to the dwarf.  “Mostly,” he said with a wry smile.  “I had intended to just drop this off, but I appear to be at loose ends today, so we’ll stay for lunch.”

 

“Ah, so Aveline warned you of the extra Templar patrols?  That’s good,” Varric mused as he took the manuscript and set it under the one he’d been working on.

 

“More patrols?” asked a gravelly voice.  “She’s already got her men spread thin.”

 

Varric and Anders turned to see Fenris standing in the doorway.  The elf was followed closely by Sebastian.

 

“Broody!  Choir-boy!  Come in and have a seat!” Varric said by way of greeting.

 

Anders groaned internally.  The Chantry brother still grated on his nerves, even after years of association.  Plus it still made him nervous to have Sebastian and Carver in the same room.

 

Fenris set aside his sword and took a seat next to Carver.  He ruffled the boy’s hair, causing it to look even wilder.  “Hello Little Hawke,” he said with one of his rare smiles.  “Does your mother know you’re here?”

 

Anders threw his hands up.  “Does the fact that he’s here with me not matter to anyone?” he demanded.

 

Fenris let out a snort that sounded suspiciously like a laugh, and shook his head.  “Everyone knows that you wear the skirts in your family.”

 

“I wear trousers,” Anders protested.

 

“Uh huh,” Varric teased.  “You do now, but I’ve seen you in skirts.”

 

Carver looked at Anders curiously.  “Why were you wearing a skirt?” he asked in confusion.

 

“They were mage robes,” Anders said after he was able to stop grinding his teeth.  “It was a disguise.  I haven’t worn them for years.  They’re not practical.”

 

Fenris must have decided to take pity on him, because he changed the subject, although his smirk said he had enjoyed making Anders squirm.  “So where is Hawke then?” he asked.

 

“Meeting with the Knight-Commander,” Varric answered.  “Probably trying to avoid becoming the next Viscount despite the pressure Meredith is putting on her.”

 

Sebastian who had been quiet up until now leaned forward and braced his elbows on the table.  “Why is she resisting?” he asked in his softly lilting brogue.  “She has a claim to the office, and she’d make an excellent leader.  She should stop hiding from the responsibility.”

 

“Sounds familiar,” Anders grumbled.

 

“My situation is different,” Sebastian said sternly.  “I have taken vows-“

 

Anders waved a hand dismissively. “Yes, yes.  We all know how much you love your precious Andraste and her Chantry,” he said snidely.

 

Sebastian opened his mouth to argue, but Carver broke into the conversation.  “Why doesn’t mom want to be Viscount?” he asked.

 

The adults all looked at each other, before all eyes turned to Anders.  He sighed because the looks were slightly accusatory as if it were his fault she didn’t take the position.  In a way it probably was.  He looked at Carver when he answered.  “It’s to protect me,” he said.

 

Carver blinked.  “Why?”

 

“Because their marriage is not technically legal,” Varric answered when Anders hesitated.  “Mages are not allowed to marry.”

 

Carver frowned.  “Well that’s stupid.”

 

Anders gave a snort of bitter laughter.  “Yes, it is,” he said.

 

“But no one knows you’re a mage,” Carver pointed out.

 

“They’ll find out eventually,” Anders answered.  “Being Viscount will put our entire family under scrutiny that we’re able to avoid right now.  And if I’m exposed as a mage, they’ll want to test you too.”

 

“Oh,” Carver said in a small voice.  His face screwed up in an expression of anger.  “I don’t like it here,” he said.  “Everything is so unfair.”  Anders would have laughed at the echo of his own sentiments in his son’s words if it weren’t so painfully true.

 

Sebastian frowned.  “It’s rather selfish of you to hold Hawke back from being the Viscount just to protect yourself from being taken to the Circle,” he said.

 

Anders’ vision went blue with rage, and he surged to his feet.  Planting his palms on the table he leaned over it threateningly.  “And what would you have me do?  Leave _?_ ”

 

The prince didn’t flinch in the face of Anders’s anger.  He leaned forward earnestly.  “You are the one who is always speaking of acting for the greater good.  Hawke could make a real difference in this city, but she won’t because of you.”

 

“Because of her _family_!”  Anders hissed.  He gestured towards Carver who was watching them with wide, curious eyes.  “Or are you suggesting that I should leave my son to grow up without a father?”

 

Sebastian opened his mouth to answer, but hesitated.  He glanced at Carver, and his mouth snapped shut on whatever he was going to say.  “No,” he finally conceded.  “I do not mean to suggest that.  I apologize.”

 

Anders had to take several deep breaths to calm himself and the spirit inside of him down.  After a moment he gave a stiff nod and sat back down.  Everyone watched him warily for signs of loss of control which just added to his irritation.  He hadn’t lost control of himself since before Carver was born, but everyone still treated him like a dangerous abomination.  “I’m fine,” he snapped.

 

“Of course you are, Blondie,” Varric said in a conciliatory tone.

 

 _If only people would believe me when I said it,_ Anders thought sadly.

 

Sebastian watched him thoughtfully for a moment.  “If the worst happened, and you ended up in the Circle, would it be that bad?”

 

Anders pinned Sebastian with a glare that would have fried him on the spot if there had been any magic behind it.  “I’m sorry,” he said softly.  “I must be confused.  Did you really just ask me if it would be ‘that bad’?”

 

Unaware of the danger he was in, Sebastian plowed ahead with his thoughts.  “If Hawke becomes Viscount she would at least have the clout to demand visitation rights.  You could still see your family.”

 

Varric and Fenris eyed Anders warily.  At the moment the mage’s hold on his temper was tenuous, and he was honestly surprised he hadn’t lost it completely.  But those thoughts were fleeting.  He was still trying to absorb the enormity of what Sebastian had just said to him.

 

“You think they’ll just stick me in a room, and let my family visit occasionally?” Anders asked softly.  “That they’ll let me wander the Gallows Commons during the day?”  His voice rose slightly.  “You think I’ll be able to study with the Senior Enchanters in my ‘free time’?”  Sebastian leaned back as he realized his mistake, but Anders didn’t stop.  “When they realize what I am, they won’t even think of making me tranquil,” he hissed.  “You know they wouldn’t let a possessed mage live!”

 

“No!” Carver shouted.  The fireplace, which had been cold because of the heat of summer suddenly flared with purple fire, and every candle bloomed with unnatural light.  He was breathing hard and his hands gripped the edge of the table.   “I don’t want you to go to the Circle!”

 

Anders leaped to his feet to rush around the table.  Kneeling beside the bench, he wrapped his arms around Carver and held him.  “Shhh,” he whispered.  “It’s okay, calm down.”  The flames on the candles flickered out, and the fire in the hearth turned from purple to orange once it was no longer being fed by magic.

 

“He’s a mage?” Sebastian said in surprise.  He looked to Varric and Fenris and saw the resigned expressions on their faces.  “You knew!” he said.  “Why didn’t anyone tell me?”

 

“Maybe it’s because you support the Circle,” Anders snapped at him.

 

Sebastian blanched.  “I’m sorry… I didn’t mean...” He turned to Fenris.  “I’m surprised that you seem okay with this.  With your past…”

 

Fenris shook his head.  “I’ve learned that magic doesn’t make a man evil, my friend.  Carver is just a boy, and he’s surrounded by people who are teaching him to be a good man someday.”

 

Sebastian nodded.  He turned back to Anders.  “I’m sorry,” he said again.  “I did not mean to upset you.  I am just surprised.”  He stood and bowed to them.  “I should go,” he said.  “I’ve had a bit of a shock, and I feel that my presence is probably going to be rather upsetting to the boy, and that is not my intention.”  Before anyone could protest, the prince turned and left the suite.

 

Anders turned to Fenris.  “You know him best.  Is he going to the Templars?”

 

Fenris also stood.  “I doubt it, but I will speak to him,” he said gruffly.  He ruffled Carver’s hair and gave him an encouraging smile.  “Say hello to your mother for me.”

 

Carver nodded and waved as Fenris left.  He turned to look up at Anders and his eyes were wide with worry.  “I’m sorry I used magic,” he said.  “I didn’t mean to.”

 

“It’s okay,” Anders said.   _Hopefully._


	20. Chapter 20

They stayed for lunch because Anders had promised Carver they would, and for some reason the boy actually liked the greasy slop they served at the Hanged Man.  Anders picked at his food, his appetite gone after his argument with Sebastian.  Luckily Carver no longer seemed to be bothered by the event.  He chattered animatedly with Varric about his new story, and showed off the new dagger Tanwen had given him.

 

“Ah, but do you know how to use it?” Varric asked.

 

Anders snorted in amusement.  “With Hawke as his mother?”

 

“Good point,” Varric said with a chuckle.

 

Carver slid the dagger back into its sheath.  “She’s been teaching me how to ‘not stab myself’,” he said.  His nose wrinkled in confusion.  “Why would anyone stab themselves?”

 

“I’ve seen it happen,” Varric said.  “Not on purpose of course.”

 

“Have you done it?” Carver asked curiously.

 

Varric patted the crossbow slung over the back of his chair.  “I’m not really a dagger kind of guy.  And I make sure to not point Bianca at my feet.”

 

Carver laughed, and his pale brown eyes sparkled.  “Bianca wouldn’t shoot you,” he said brightly.  “Tell me about someone you saw who stabbed themselves.  Did they live?  I’ll bet they screamed bloody murder!”

 

“Oookay,” Anders said quickly.  He glared at Varric.  “Someone has been telling my son too many elaborate stories.”

 

“Oh come on, Blondie,” Varric said with amusement.  “It’s not that bad of a story.  There are worse things in the Chant of Light.”

 

Anders rolled his eyes. “Oh, like that makes them okay?  Can we save the bloody tales until he’s older?”

 

“Da-aad,” Carver whined. “I’m not a baby.”

 

“Tell that to your mother,” Anders argued.  “She’s already on edge about you coming here.  Let’s not give her any more reason to lock you in a tower.”  He winced, when he realized what he’d just said.

 

“Poor choice of words, Blondie,” Varric said warningly.

 

No kidding.

…

 

When they finally made it home that afternoon, Sandal was sitting on the floor near the fireplace delicately carving a piece of stone that he would probably use for an enchantment.  His thick fingers were graceful as they shaped it with the tiny carving chisel that always looked too small for his hands.

 

“Hello Sandal!  What are you making?” Carver asked curiously as they entered the room.

 

The dwarf looked up with a vacant smile and held the stone out for them to look at.  It was carved with what looked like delicate flames. “Can I have a salamander?” he asked.

 

“I wouldn’t get him any, if I were you Messeres,” Bodahn said as he entered the room from the back of the house.

 

“Why not?” Carver asked.

 

Sandal’s smile widened.  “Boom!” he said enthusiastically.

 

Bodahn winced and smiled at the same time, which Anders thought was a rather comic look for the old dwarf.  “It’s just not a good idea,” he answered.

 

Anders wondered briefly what kind of destruction salamanders could lead to if Bodahn didn’t want to talk about it, but before he could ask the door slammed open behind him.  Tanwen stalked into the room, practically vibrating with fury.

 

“Hawke, I know you’re upset, but you need to think of all the positive things that can come of this,” Aveline was saying as she followed Tanwen into the main hall.

 

Tanwen whirled on the Guard Captain.  “I know!  Everyone has been telling me.”

 

“Only because it’s true!” Aveline scolded.

 

Anders watched in surprise as Tanwen came to a halt and spun around to face the other woman.  “You really think that Meredith will let me get away with changing things for the _better_?  She has my sister, so she knows she has me too!”

 

“But maybe as Viscount you’ll have more influence with the Grand Cleric-“

 

Tanwen threw up a hand and cut Aveline off mid-argument.  “No.  If my status as Champion isn’t enough for that stubborn old woman, why would being the Viscount help?  She obviously didn’t listen to Dumar.”

 

“He didn’t care so much about mage rights,” Aveline pointed out.  When Tanwen planted her hands on her hips and gave her a sarcastic look the Guard Captain smiled slightly.  “Okay, so he didn’t care at all.  But I still think you’re missing the point.”

 

“Oh, I see your point,” Tanwen said with a snort of bitter amusement. “I just don’t agree with you.”

 

Unable to stay silent any longer, Anders stepped forward to bring their attention to him.  “What is going on?” he asked.

 

The women turned to face him, and Tanwen’s shoulders slumped.  She moved to stand before him and put her arms around his waist, burying her face in the feathers at his shoulder.  Anders wrapped his arms around her, but he was surprised and worried by her actions.  She rarely raised her voice in anger, but her argument with Aveline obviously had her more agitated than he’d seen her in a long time.  He rubbed his nose against the crown of her head in an attempt to calm her, and was surprised to feel her shudder against him.  “Tell me what’s wrong, love,” he said softly.

 

“I’m going to be Viscount,” she mumbled quietly.

 

Anders gripped her shoulders and pushed her back until he could look into her eyes.  “What?  But…” he couldn’t even finish the thought.  All of the reasons he’d given earlier for Tanwen to deny the position clamored for a chance to spill out.  But an image of Bethany with a Tranquility brand on her forehead flashed through his mind and he closed his mouth.  “She threatened your sister?” he asked.

 

Tanwen nodded miserably.  “I can’t fight her on this anymore.  I’m going to be sworn in sometime in the next few weeks,” she said. “I don’t know what to do.”

 

Anders knew she was worried about him and Carver.  It was bloody unfair that she had to choose between the safety of different members of her family, but he couldn’t see a solution to the problem either.  Since the mage underground had started to collapse, they had had no chance of getting Bethany out of the Gallows.

 

 _We should have made her leave when we had the chance,_ Anders thought.  He immediately felt guilty, though.  Bethany understood that giving up her freedom had meant giving it to many others.  It was a lesson that Anders had learned when he’d merged with Justice and decided to do something about the oppression of his fellow mages.  He couldn’t begrudge her choice now.

 

Aveline put a hand on Tanwen’s shoulder.  “We’ll think of something,” she said in a comforting tone.

 

“Blow up the Gallows,” Carver said, bringing their attention to where he sat next to Sandal.  He looked at them all expectantly when they didn’t answer.  “If you blow it up, they won’t have anywhere to keep the mages,” he explained.

 

Aveline made a choked sound that sounded like a horrified laugh.  “Anders, what have you been teaching him?”

 

Anders glared at her.  “Why does everyone think I’m such a bad influence on him?” he demanded.

 

“Because you like to chuck fireballs at people who make you angry, and Templars are your favorite type of target,” Tanwen said with a tinge of amusement.  She pulled away from him and went to squat down in front of Carver.  She smiled gently and took his hands in hers.  “It’s not that simple, sweetheart.  The mages are in there, too.”

 

“Well get them out,” Carver said.  His breathing sped up slightly as he became upset.

 

Tanwen shook her head.  “We can’t get them all out at once, and it’s very dangerous to sneak even one or two out.”

 

Carver nodded his understanding, although his eyes remained worried.  “So you have to become Viscount?” he asked.  When Tanwen nodded, his gaze dropped to the floor.  “Does that mean Dad has to run away?”

 

Tanwen glanced up at Anders worriedly.  She took a deep breath and sighed.  “I don’t know, sweetling,” she answered.

 

Anders watched his wife pull their son into her arms.  His mind whirled as he tried to find a way out of this situation.  If only they could get Bethany out of the Circle, they could leave Kirkwall.

 

**_But what of the mages’ cause?_ **

 

 _We wouldn’t give up, but our current tactics are failing,_ Anders thought.   _It may be time to retreat and regroup. We can find another way._  His eyes were caught by the motion of Sandal carving the stone in his hand.  If only they _could_ blow up the Gallows.  It would certainly send a message to the world that the mages would no longer stand for their imprisonment.

 

If there were some way they could keep the mages safe.  Some way to separate them from the Templars…

 

Anders put the thought aside for right now.  He walked over and knelt down next to his small family.  He ruffled Carver’s hair and gave him a reassuring smile when their eyes met.  “I’m not going anywhere,” he said firmly.  “I’ll just have to be more careful about who I chuck fireballs at.”

 

“You could just stop altogether,” Aveline suggested dryly from behind him.

 

He turned and gave her a wide grin.  “You can’t tell me you wouldn’t toast fools if you could,” he teased.  Aveline harrumphed, but didn’t answer, proving his point.

 

“What about the clinic?” Tanwen asked.  “As my husband you’ll be expected to attend state functions, and political parties, and... Oh, Maker… please don’t make me go to all of those by myself.”

 

Anders sighed.  “We’ll figure it out,” he said.  “And no, I won’t make you go alone.  Till death do us part includes boring dinners with diplomats.”

 

Tanwen relaxed slightly, and Carver accepted their words with the trust of a child for his parents.  Talk turned to plans for the coronation ceremony, and Carver went off to find Orana.  Anders only paid partial attention to the conversation.  His eyes kept going back to the carved stone in Sandal’s stubby, yet graceful fingers.

 

A plan began to formulate in his mind.  It was vague still.  He’d need to find a way to lure the Templars into his trap, and he would definitely need to figure out how to minimize damage.  Justice hummed with approval in his mind.

 

**_This will be a critical blow to our enemies_ ** **.**

 

Yes, it would.   _But we have to make sure it’s not going to catch too many innocents in the crossfire,_ Anders thought firmly.


	21. Chapter 21

The next two weeks flew by in a frenzy of preparation for the ceremony that would make Tanwen the Viscount of Kirkwall.  Anders mostly just stayed out of the way.  He still worked in the clinic as much as possible despite the fact that Tanwen tried to talk him out of it.

 

She was worried because of the increased Templar patrols.  His stubborn refusal to stay out of Darktown nearly caused them a fight, but he wouldn’t be kept away from people who needed him.  As a compromise, he allowed Aveline to send a trusted guard with him daily, which was enough to calm Tanwen’s fears.  

 

Today had been especially busy.  Mostly rashes and colds, but more people came to see him than usual.  He didn’t expend very much energy on actual healing, so he kept the lantern lit well into the evening.  As he bandaged up a burn, he looked up and saw Guardsman Brennan yawning widely.  “You can go if you want,” he said as he looked back down at his work.  “I just need to clean up and then I’ll head straight home.”

 

“Captain said I was to stay with you,” she protested.

 

Anders tied off the bandage and gave a few instructions along with a pot of salve to the young woman he’d been treating.  Her grateful smile warmed his heart, and he was more sure than ever that healing was his calling.  It still chafed to be of so little use to the Mages in the Circle, but taking care of those in need at least soothed his frustration and appeased his spirit passenger enough to stave off lectures about “duty to his brethren”.

 

He walked the young woman to the door of the clinic and took the lantern down from it’s hook outside the door.  “Really Brennan, I’ll be fine.  You can go.”

 

The guard shook her head stubbornly, and Anders sighed in resignation.  He was getting tired of being under constant surveillance.  He knew it was for the best because of the extra effort Meredith was putting into finding apostates lately, but it still irked him that he needed to be babysat constantly.

 

Having treated his last patient for the day, Anders put out the lantern and cleaned the clinic.  Once he was finished, Brennan stayed glued to his heels as he took the long way home.  He was a bit too tired for that long of a walk, but he and Tanwen had agreed many years before to keep the Darktown entrance to the estate basements a secret.

 

He waved to Brennan when she left him at his doorstep, then slipped inside.  A movement on the balcony over the grand hall caught his attention.  Orana was coming out of Carver’s bedroom.  Tanwen must still be up at the Viscount’s keep if she wasn’t the one putting their son to bed.  “Am I too late to say goodnight?” he asked.

 

“He’s sleeping,” Orana said with a soft smile.  “But I don’t think that means it’s too late.”

 

Anders grinned and took the stairs two at a time despite the fact that his legs were still tired from the trudge up from Darktown.  He slipped past the blonde elf and into his son’s room.  Barkley was curled up at the foot of the bed as usual.  He lifted his head and whuffed a quiet greeting, earning a scratch between his ears before Anders knelt down next to the bed.  He brushed his fingers through spiky black hair.

 

He leaned forward and placed a kiss on Carver’s forehead, and left the room.  Orana was waiting for him at the bottom of the stairs.  “Where is everyone?” he asked.

 

“Mistress Hawke hasn’t come home yet,” Orana answered.  “Bodahn was in the kitchen the last I saw him.  I’m not sure where Sandal has gotten to.”

 

Anders nodded his thanks and made his way to the library.  He sat down at his desk, letting out a groan as he took the weight off his aching feet.  A simple spell lit the candles around the room and a fire bloomed in the hearth before Anders pulled a box out of the drawer.  He unlocked and opened it to reveal the flame shaped stone that Sandal had given him.  It glimmered with the patterns the young dwarf had engraved it with.

 

It had been difficult to learn how the enchantment worked without actually setting it off.  Sandal wasn’t exactly the easiest person to converse with in general.  In the end, it had been easier to have Sandal show him how to set it off.  With Bodahn’s permission they’d gone out to the Bone Pit to test it.  Of course Tanwen had wanted to know what was going on when she saw them gearing up for the small trip.

 

“You had Sandal finish it?  And you don’t even know what you’re going to do with it?” she’d asked incredulously.

 

Anders had shrugged and grinned at her.  “I’m taking a page from Isabela’s book.  Step one, create the explosive.  Step two, something interesting happens.  Step three, mage freedom!”

 

Tanwen scowled and put her hands on her hips.  “Isabela is not a proper role model for making plans,” she huffed.  She looked at the enchanted stone warily.  “Why are you keeping it here?  What if it goes off accidentally?”

 

“It won’t go off unless you pour some lyrium onto it,” Anders said.  “That’s the catalyst.”

 

That didn’t seem to reassure Tanwen at all.  “How do you know?” she demanded.

 

Anders rolled his eyes.  “Give me some credit, love.  I did some research before I had Sandal finish it.”

 

The argument had gone on for a while, although eventually he’d convinced her it was safe.  But only after he’d shown her his notes and walked her through the estate to show her that he’d removed all of his hidden lyrium potions.  She’d made him promise to include her on any plans he made with it because they wouldn’t use it without making the decision together.  He’d agreed to that stipulation easily.  From his studies he’d learned that the explosion could be rather large, and he certainly didn’t want to hurt any innocents.

 

Tanwen had also insisted on learning how it worked, so the three of them went out to the Bone Pit together and experimented with different amounts of lyrium.  Sandal had many of the carved stones, and while Anders and Tanwen crouched close to watch him work, he delicately painted intricate lines of Salamander blood in the crevices.  At the top point of the “flame” he drizzled a few drops of lyrium from a potion Anders brought along.  With a giggle, he jumped up and ran to hide behind a large outcropping of stone.  

 

Anders and Tanwen followed him quickly.  They waited.  And waited.

 

“How long does it take?” Tanwen whispered.

 

“It’s not going to explode if you speak loudly, love,” Anders teased.  “It takes a while.  The lyrium will mix with the Salamander’s blood, and then it will start to burn through the stone.  There’s a chamber carved inside filled with more blood and a few other... unpleasant ingredients.  And then-”

 

He was interrupted by a loud explosion that left his ears ringing.  Seconds later sand and stone began to shower down over them and Anders had to throw up a shield to protect their heads. Once the shower of rubble ended Tanwen leapt to her feet to survey the damage.  Sandal stood next to her and grinned widely at the crater left behind.

 

“Boom!” he shouted gleefully.

 

 _Indeed,_ Anders thought in amusement.  

 

Tanwen’s wide eyed gaze took in the size of the crater, and then swung to look at Anders.  “Isn’t this going to be too dangerous to use?” she asked.

 

“Well there are ways to control how long it takes to go off,” Anders explained.  “Come on, I’ll show you.”

 

They spent the rest of the day blowing holes in the Bone Pit.  It was surprisingly fun to experiment with different amounts of lyrium and see how much damage they could do.

 

The door to the library opened, pulling Anders from his thoughts.  He looked up with a smile, but it soured slightly when Fenris entered instead of Tanwen.  “Fenris!” he said with forced enthusiasm.  “What are you doing here so late?”

 

Fenris gave him a wry smile that was really just a slight twisting of his lips.  Anyone who didn’t know him well would have missed it.  “Disappointed to see me?” he asked.

 

“I thought you were Tanwen,” Anders answered honestly.  He gestured to one of the chairs across from his desk in an invitation to sit.  “She’s still at the Keep preparing for the coronation.”

 

The elf ignored the chairs and walked over to the desk.  “Yes, Bodahn told me,” he said.  “I was hoping she’d be here.  I have something important to talk to you about.”  As he spoke, he absently reached out to touch the carved stone on the desk.

 

Ignoring the fact that touching Fenris without permission could lead to broken fingers, Anders snapped his hand out and caught the elf’s wrist before he could touch the stone.  “Don’t!” he hissed.  He let go of Fenris’ wrist quickly.  “I’m sorry,” he said.  “It’s dangerous, and lyrium sets it off.  I’m not sure what will happen if you touch it.”

 

Forgetting whatever had brought him, Fenris frowned down at the object.  “What is it?”

 

“It’s an explosive,” Anders answered.  He quickly packed it back in the box he kept it in.  “We’re going to try and use it to free Bethany.”

 

Fenris’ lean body tensed.  “How?” he demanded quietly.

 

Anders made a sour face.  “We’re still working on that part,” he answered.

 

“You’ll include me in your plans, mage,” Fenris growled.

 

It was a marvel to Anders that Fenris cared so much about Bethany considering the elf’s hatred for mages when they first met.  He used to be fiercely curious about what she could have done to tame Fenris’ hatred and fear, but Anders eventually figured it out.

 

 _Love can do miraculous things,_ he thought.  His own situation was similar.  If he hadn’t met Tanwen, he might have eventually gone mad.

 

Anders nodded.  “Of course, my friend,” he said reassuringly.

 

Fenris relaxed and smiled gratefully before he shook his head.  “I can’t believe Hawke is going along with this,” he grumbled.

 

“She can’t be Meredith’s puppet her whole life,” Anders said.  “We’ve got to do something.”

 

The elf finally slumped down in a chair, somehow still making the move look graceful.  He rubbed his temples for a moment before he spoke.  “Yes, you do,” he said.  “That’s why I’ve come.  I’m worried about Sebastian.”

 

Anders’ jerked in alarm, nearly knocking the inkwell over.  “Why?” he demanded.

 

Fenris dropped his hands and grimaced at Anders.  “I’ve been talking to him about Carver.  He’s been torn over the situation-“

 

“About what, exactly?  The fact that my son is not sitting in a cell in the Circle?” Anders snapped.  He stood and started pacing back and forth behind the desk.  “I knew we should have kept him away from Carver,” he muttered.  He came to a stop and turned to Fenris with a glare.  “He told someone, didn’t he?”

 

The look on Fenris’ face sent tingles of fear over Anders’ skin and he felt it tighten as Justice surged to the surface.  He took deep breaths in an attempt to calm down.

 

“I don’t know that he has said anything,” Fenris said cautiously, watching Anders for signs of blue light.  “We had dinner together this evening, and he looked much more relaxed than he has been since he found out about your son.  When I mentioned it he told me that he was going to leave things in the Maker’s hands.”

 

“What does that bloody mean?” Anders demanded.

 

Fenris shrugged.  “I’m not sure,” he answered.  “He wouldn’t say any more than that.  As far as I know he could have just had a very productive prayer session.”

 

“But you’re worried about it, or you wouldn’t have warned me,” Anders pointed out.

 

The elf nodded slowly.  “I just think it would best if you didn’t leave Carver unprotected for a while.”

 

Anders agreed wholeheartedly.  “Thank you,” he said.  “I’m going to-“

 

A commotion coming from the front of the house brought their attention around to the door of the library.  Bodahn gave a shout of pain and surprise which spurred the mage and the elf warrior into motion.  What they found in the main hall brought them both to a stop.

 

Knight Commander Meredith herself entered the estate with long strides, followed by a small army of Templars.  Her eyes settled on Anders and Fenris, and she gave a smug smile.  “We’ve come for the boy,” she said firmly.

 

Anders felt his skin tighten as Justice came close to the surface.  He gritted his teeth and pushed the spirit back.   _Not now.  Not yet._  “What boy?” he asked in a futile attempt at playing stupid.

 

Meredith shook her head at him in disappointment.  “Do you really want to make this more difficult than it has to be?  You know the punishment for harboring mages in this city is death.  Having a mage child is going to be enough of a stain on Ser Hawke’s reputation.  Do you really want to add an executed husband to the scandal?”

 

“You are not taking my son,” Anders said through bared teeth.

 

“So be it,” Meredith said with a sigh.  She motioned to her men, and several of them advanced towards Anders.

 

That was all he needed to let go of his control.  Justice surged forward, his skin cracked open and blue light poured from his eyes.  “You will die before you touch our son!”

 

The Templars hesitated at the unexpected transformation.  Meredith’s face twisted into a snarl.  “Abomination,” she hissed.  “Kill him!  Find the boy and bring him to the Circle!”

 

Before the last words were out of her mouth, Anders sent a bolt of lightning from his fingers that sizzled through the air to zap the two closest Templars.  They didn’t even scream as their bodies seized inside their armor, and they collapsed with a loud crash to the stone floor.

 

There was a chorus of steel hissing as swords were removed from their scabbards, including Fenris’ as he prepared to fight also.  Meredith backed away, and let her men move forward in the tight space of the main hall.  Anders growled and tried to hit her with another bolt of electricity, but there were too many people in the way.  As it was, he just barely missed Fenris as the elf dove into the fight.

 

There wasn’t really enough room for the elf to wield his greatsword effectively, so Anders backed towards the stairs and concentrated on keeping his friend shielded while doing as much damage to the Templars as he could.

 

“Silence him!” Meredith shouted.

 

A wave of Templar power pushed against Anders’ skin, but Justice ignored it.  Anders felt himself weaken, and if he hadn’t been possessed he would have been incapacitated.  Unfortunately it did cut him off from enough of his magic that he couldn’t cast anymore.  Justice took over and rushed down into the fray, tearing physically through the Templars.

 

A fierce bark startled everyone as Barkley leapt down the stairs to join the fight.  Anders looked up to see Carver standing on the balcony, watching with wide eyed fear.  “Someone get him out of here!” he shouted, his voice hoarse with Justice’s overlaying rumble.

 

Unfortunately, he was distracted enough that he missed the sword swinging toward his back.  His scream was cut short as the blade sliced through his robes and slid between his ribs just missing one of his lungs.  Another wave of the Templars’ dampening ability slammed into him, then another and another as the Templars focused their power on taking him down.

 

The last thing Anders saw before he collapsed was a Templar running up the stairs toward Carver.  


	22. Chapter 22

Anders heard his name as if from a distance.  “Anders,” Fenris said urgently from just over him.  Thin fingers patted his face.  “Wake up,” he said urgently.  “You need to heal yourself.”

 

Still not opening his eyes, Anders spoke.  “I can’t,” he whispered.  “They cut me off from my magic.”  And with that many Templars hitting him with their power all at once, it might be awhile before he could cast again.  Even Justice was reeling from the attack.  Anders could barely feel his presence.

 

When Fenris didn’t say anything right away, Anders cracked open one eye to see the elf kneeling over him.  Rotating his head slightly showed him that the place was destroyed, and splashed with blood.  “Anyone ever tell you… you’re really good… at this…. fighting business?” Anders wheezed.  Yeah, definitely a broken rib to go along with the stab wound.  When he coughed the coppery taste of blood filled his mouth.

 

Fenris was thoroughly splattered with blood, and one eye was starting to swell shut, but Anders could still recognize the worry in his expression.  “Anyone ever tell you that you have terrible timing for your jokes?”

 

“Never.  You just…. have a poor sense of… humor.”

 

“Hm, that must be it,” Fenris said absently as he looked up and around the room.  “Where do you keep your potions?”

 

“I’ve got some here, Master Fenris,” Bodahn said as he emerged from another room.  He was limping badly and there was dried blood trailing down from a cut somewhere on his scalp, but he appeared alert.  Anders was relieved to see that he was okay.

 

Together the elf and the dwarf helped Anders swallow two bottles of the healing potions.  It took a few minutes before they took effect, and it wouldn’t be as helpful as an actual healing, but he was able to take a full breath.  “Where’s Carver?” he rasped.

 

Fenris’ face twisted with sorrow and he looked away when he answered.  “They took him.  Meredith threatened to kill him if we continued to fight her.  I’m sorry,” he said softly.

 

Anders tried to sigh, but coughed instead.  He suddenly felt heavy, as if he would sink into the floor if Fenris let him go.  “You did the right thing,” he said in a monotone voice.

 

It was the right thing, but it felt so wrong.  He let his eyes unfocus and he tried not to think of all the ways Meredith would use Carver against Tanwen.  It was a moment before he realized Fenris was speaking.

 

“I’ve sent Orana and Barkley to the Keep to fetch Tanwen.  She should be here soon,” Fenris said.

 

Anders nodded his understanding.  “Why am I still alive?” he asked tiredly.

 

“We didn’t know you were,” Bodahn answered.  “When we saw you go down, we thought you were a goner for sure.  Those Templars probably thought so, too.”

 

He probably should be dead with as much damage as he’d sensed when he awoke.  Justice’s presence was probably the only thing that had saved him.

 

The door flew open and Tanwen rushed into the estate, followed by Aveline, Barkley and Orana.  When she saw Anders on the floor, she rushed over and fell to her knees next to him, giving no thought to the blood and gore staining her clothing.  “Anders!  Oh Maker, look at you.  How bad is it?”  Her hands wandered over him.  “Why aren’t you healing yourself?” she demanded.

 

“They cut him off from the Fade,” Fenris explained.

 

Anders caught on of her hands in his weakly.  “Tanwen, they have Carver.”

 

“I know,” she said.  “Orana told me.  We’ll get him out.”  Her voice was shaking, and Anders could see that she was just barely holding back panic.

 

“How?” Aveline asked from behind her.

 

Tanwen looked up from where she knelt on the floor.  “I don’t know yet,” she said.  “But we will.  And we’ll get Bethany out.  Then we’re leaving this blighted city.”  She turned back to Anders and brushed her fingers through the hair that had come loose to hang over his forehead.  “I’m done with this place.  I’m tired of giving this city my everything and getting nothing in return.”

 

Anders reached up and cupped her face with his palm, accidentally smearing blood against her skin.  “Okay,” he said.  “We’ll get our family back, and then we’ll leave.”

 

Tanwen’s lips trembled, but the corners lifted in a sad smile that told him she wanted to believe him.  She put her hand over his and accepted the comfort he offered for a moment.  She closed her eyes as she spoke.  “I can’t believe this is happening,” she said softly.  “How did the Templars find out?”

 

Fenris cleared his throat.  “I think Sebastian may have told someone,” he said gruffly.

 

Tanwen stiffened, and turned slowly to face the elf.  “What?” she asked in a dangerous voice.  “Why would he do that?”

 

The white haired elf shifted his weight from foot to foot nervously.  “I don’t know if he did for sure… it was just something that he said.”

 

Tanwen rose slowly to her feet.  Her hands flexed into fists, then relaxed.  “I need to have a word with him,” she said in a voice that Anders only ever heard her use when someone had just made a serious mistake that she planned on correcting with violence.

 

“Hawke,” Aveline said soothingly.  “Keep calm.  We don’t know that he said anything.”

 

“I just want to talk to him,” Tanwen answered.

 

Anders pushed himself into a sitting position.  He winced at the pain from his injuries, but didn’t stop.  “I’m going with you,” he said.  When Tanwen opened her mouth to argue he held up a hand.  “No.  You can’t talk me out of this.”

 

She knew him well enough to know that arguing with him would be futile.  Together with Fenris, she helped him up to his feet.  Aveline and the elf joined them as they made their way slowly to the Chantry.  The building was quiet when they got there, most of the Sisters probably in their beds for the night.

 

Anders leaned heavily on Fenris while Aveline and Tanwen spoke with the sleepy Sister tending the candles.  The young woman’s eyes widened at something Tanwen said and she nodded vigorously before she quickly left for the sleeping quarters.  Whatever his wife had said must have been harsh because Aveline was frowning at her in disapproval.

 

“Hawke,” Sebastian said as he joined them.  “What-?” He came to a halt when he noticed their bloody appearance.  His brow wrinkled with worry when he saw Anders leaning on Fenris.  “Are you alright?” he asked.  “Do you need help?”

 

Anders bared his teeth at Sebastian when he moved to touch him.  “I think you’ve been quite helpful, thank you.”

 

Sebastian recoiled slightly and looked around at them in confusion before his eyes settled on Tanwen.  “What is going on?” he asked solemnly.

 

“The Templars have my son,” Tanwen answered.  “Did you tell them about him?”

 

The prince’s face froze for a moment in shock before he straightened his spine.  “No.  I did not.  How could you think that of me?”

 

“I told them about our talks,” Fenris admitted in a voice tinged with guilt.

 

Sebastian’s expression fell.  “I told you those things in confidence, my friend,” he said in a wounded tone.  “How could you?”

 

“I am sorry,” Fenris said sincerely.  “But Carver is....  Well, I was worried.”

 

The prince took a step back from all of them.  “I am shocked that any of you would believe I would turn him in.  It’s true, I considered it for a short time, but I decided the boy is better off with his parents.”

 

“Someone told the Templars,” Anders rasped.  He was so tired.  The wound in his back was starting to reopen, and he could feel the blood seeping down into the back of his trousers.  He really needed to have someone bandage it up properly until his magic returned and he could heal himself.  “You’re the only one who had reason to.”

 

Sebastian took a breath to speak, but another voice interrupted him.

 

“Sebastian did not turn your son in to the Templars,” The Grand Cleric said as she also entered the chapel.  “I did.”

 

Everyone, including the prince turned to the older woman in surprise.  She paced forward calmly, still looking stately and imposing in her night robe.

 

“How did you find out?” Sebastian asked when no one else spoke.

 

Elthina put a comforting hand on his shoulder.  “I overheard your prayers to the Maker.  I knew I had to act if you would not.”

 

Tanwen was staring at the Grand Cleric, her expression completely blank.  “Why?” She asked quietly.  “Why did you send my son to the Circle?”

 

“Because he is a mage,” Elthina answered matter-of-factly.  “You are going to be the city’s Viscount, and he would be next in line of succession.  ‘Magic must not rule man’.”

 

“I didn’t even want the title,” Tanwen said, her voice even softer.  Anders wanted to reach for her, to hold her but he didn’t have the strength.  Even when they’d lost their second child she hadn’t sounded so broken.

 

The Grand Cleric shook her head and tsked.  “You are the best option.  You have been taking care of this city for years.  I was very pleased when Meredith told me she had talked you into accepting the title.”

 

“Talked me into it?” Tanwen asked, and this time her voice held an undercurrent of danger.  Her companions all glanced at each other when they recognized the tone.  “She had to ‘talk me into it’ because I didn’t want to endanger my son.  But then she threatened to make my sister Tranquil if I didn’t accept the position.  And now she has my son, and she’s going to use my family against me.”

 

Tanwen took a step towards the Grand Cleric.  Just one step, but Aveline’s hand came up to grasp her shoulder.  It was a gentle reminder of where they were, but Tanwen ignored it.  “I will be Viscount in name only.  Meredith will rule this city through me.”

 

Elthina gave Tanwen a look that said she was disappointed in a child who wouldn’t accept a lesson.  “Now I don’t think she would-“

 

“She already has!” Tanwen screamed angrily.  “You’re blind to her schemes!  And now my son is in danger because you put him in her hands!”

 

“My child, please calm yourself.  Meredith is a good woman.  She just needs a little guidance-“

 

Tanwen moved so quickly that not even Aveline who already had a grip on her could stop what happened.  Her hand shot out and slapped the Grand Cleric so hard that the older woman stumbled back.  “Tell that to all the Tranquil harrowed mages!” Tanwen screamed.  “Say that to every young mage I smuggled out of the Gallows who’d been abused by the Templars under her command!  Tell that to my _son_ who is probably terrified that his father is dead because of the Templars attacking him!”

 

She lunged forward again, her fingers curled into claws, but this time Aveline was able to grab her.  Tanwen struggled in the Guard Captain’s arms.  She started screaming incoherently about fault and blindness.

 

“Get her out of here!” Sebastian said as he wrapped a protective arm around Elthina.

 

Anders watched passively as Aveline wrapped her arms around Tanwen and lifted her bodily off the floor.  She eventually had to squeeze Tanwen until she didn’t have the breath to fight anymore.

 

Tanwen went limp in Aveline’s arms, the fight draining out of her along with her strength.  Cautiously the Guard Captain loosened her grip, and when Tanwen’s knees began to buckle, she lifted the smaller woman into her arms and cradled her carefully against her breastplate.

 

Justice stirred sluggishly, but Anders didn’t feel the normal surge of anger and power flood through him.  All he felt from the spirit was sorrow that things had come to this.

 

“Let’s get her home,” Anders said softly.  Fenris gave him a wary look, probably expecting an outburst from Justice, but nodded and turned to help Anders limp out of the building as Aveline followed behind carrying Tanwen in her arms.


	23. Chapter 23

"Anders.  Wake up."

 

He came awake suddenly to find Tanwen bending over him.  He was lying in bed, clothed only in his tunic and trousers, and no longer feeling the pain of his injuries.  He sat up suddenly, nearly knocking heads with her.  "What?  Where?" he looked around and found the answer to his second question.  They were at home.  "Carver?" he asked when his eyes met hers again.

 

"He's still in the Gallows," she answered.  "But we're going to get him out.  Right now.  Are you alright?"

 

Anders sent his senses inward.  His connection to the Fade was strong, and he was fully healed.  Justice must have started the healing process after he passed out on the way home from the Chantry.  "I'm alright," he said absently.  "Why didn't you wake me sooner?"  He got up from the bed and felt the room spin.  He'd expended so much power healing himself that he felt a little raw.  He took a few deep breaths and the dizziness cleared.

 

"You needed it," she said as she handed him his boots.  "And I needed time to plan."

 

"What _is_ the plan?" he asked as he pulled them on.  

 

When Tanwen didn't answer right away Anders turned to see her fiddling with the buckle on the tattered remains of his coat.  "It was your favorite," she said softly.  She looked up at him and her eyes were filled with tears.  "And now it's ruined."

 

"Love," Anders said gently.  He hurried over to wrap her in his arms, crushing the ragged garment between them.  "It's just a coat."

 

Tanwen buried her face against his neck.  "It's not just the coat," she said against his skin.  "You know it's not.  Things will never be the same..."

 

"Yes," he sighed against her hair.  "I know."

 

"When we get Carver back, we're leaving," Tanwen said firmly.  "I won't stay in this city."

 

Anders pulled back and tilted her face up with a thumb against her jaw.  Her eyes were fierce with a determination that was familiar.  It was a look he'd seen many times, starting with the day she came to his clinic looking for his maps to the Deep Roads.  

 

 ** _What about the mages?_** Justice asked.  

 

 _Look at her.  Do you think you can talk her out of leaving?_ Justice didn't answer, and even though Anders could feel the spirit's frustration, it was tempered by affection.   _We will find a way.  But obviously we can't stay here now that the Templars know about our family._

 

 _"_ I agree," he said out loud.  "We will leave."

 

Tanwen let out a stream of air in a relieved sigh.  She wiped at her eyes and nodded.  "Thank you.  I know what this means for you."

 

Anders felt Justice in his voice when he spoke.  "Family comes first."

 

Tanwen blinked up at him in surprise.  Something else flickered in her eyes and for a moment he thought she was going to speak, but she didn't.  Pulling back, she looked down at the coat.  She sniffled once and then straightened her shoulders.  "We need to hurry," she said.  "We don't have very much time."

 

Tanwen hurried over to the wardrobe and pulled out the black coat he'd only worn once because it was too nice to ruin by traipsing around in caves, tunnels, and sewers.  Not to mention all the things his clothing was exposed to in the clinic.  He hesitated for just a moment before he put it on, but practicality won out.   Tanwen’s' mouth tilted up into a smile of appreciation, and for a brief moment he felt a flash of his old vanity.

 

Anders had another moment of light headedness.  After all the mana he'd expended in the fight with the Templars and then healing himself, he was surprised he was only slightly woozy.  But he would need to be at full strength.  He opened the chest near the desk and rummaged under everything until he found the pouch where he kept his vials of lyrium.  He frowned slightly when he realized how many there were.  

 

"Anders, we have to hurry," Tanwen said from near the door.  She was bouncing on the balls of her feet impatiently.

 

He looked down and recounted.  Three bottles missing.  Another wave of dizziness swept over him, and he quickly grabbed two and downed them before putting the rest in his belt pouch along with what was left of the healing potions.  His head immediately cleared, and he pushed his worries away.  He must have just misremembered how many vials he had left.  He stood quickly, relieved that the dizziness didn’t return, and turned to follow Tanwen out of the room.

 

Downstairs he wasn’t surprised to see all of his friends gathered.  Even Sebastian was present, which was unexpected.  “What are you doing here?” he growled at the prince as he made his way down the stairs.

 

Sebastian had the grace to look abashed.  “I understand why you may be upset with me, but I truly did not mean for this to happen.”

 

“I invited him,” Tanwen said.

 

Anders still wanted to protest, but he understood that she was giving the prince a chance to redeem himself.  Justice approved of the action, so Anders grudgingly let go of his irritation.  He had other things to worry about right now.

 

They left as a group, all of them solemnly quiet.  Even Isabela seemed serious, which was unusual.  Tanwen kept glancing up at the sky where the early morning sun was starting to come up over the edges of Sundermount, then back towards Hightown.  Anders frowned at her behavior.  It was almost as if she was waiting for something to happen, but he couldn’t even guess what it might be.  He wanted to ask her, but they were almost at the Gallows.

 

The ferry ride onto the small island didn’t take very long, but due to the tension it felt interminable.  Tanwen sat at the front with Barkley leaning against her knees, and when she glanced back at Anders he wished he could see past the blank mask of her expression to the thoughts behind it.

 

Bethany was at her normal place at the market stand closest to the barracks, where the Templars could keep an eye on her.  She was setting out the goods she sold in preparation for the people who were already starting to trickle in to take advantage of the specialty items made by the Tranquil mages.  When she caught sight of them approaching she smiled in relief, and rushed around the table to hug her sister.  "Thank the Maker you're here," she said.  

 

To Anders' amusement, Fenris looked down at his feet and cleared his throat quietly.  He almost decided to tease the elf, but when Bethany moved from Tanwen's arms to wrap Fenris in a tight hug, Anders decided it was better to keep his mouth shut.  Of anyone, Fenris had the most reason to hate mages, but it was obvious that he loved Tanwen's little sister.  The happiness on his face when he held Bethany was too rare to ruin with a poorly timed joke.  Not to mention the seriousness of the situation.  Fenris was right about Anders’ misplaced sense of comedic timing.

 

Fenris loosened his hold on Bethany, but didn't let go completely.  She turned slightly in his arms to face Tanwen.  "I heard what happened last night.  You've come to get Carver?" she asked.

 

"We've come for you, too," Tanwen said firmly.

 

Bethany shook her head ruefully.  "You know that's impossible.  Meredith isn't going to just let you walk me out the front door, and she's keeping the tunnels heavily guarded."

 

Tanwen's eyes turned toward the city, and Anders turned to see what she was looking at.  The only thing he could see from this angle was the highest areas of Hightown, which included the Chantry and the Viscount's Keep.  "I don't plan on asking for her permission," Tanwen said.  

 

"You have a plan then, Hawke?" Aveline asked.  "Do you care to share it with us?"

 

Tanwen didn't answer right away.  She smiled grimly before turning back to the group.  "I have a plan," she said.  "I doubt you'll like it though."

 

"I don't like the sound of that," Aveline said suspiciously.

 

Varric groaned.  "Really?  Did you have to say it so _ominously?"_

 

"It'll be clear really soon," Tanwen said calmly.  She turned to Bethany.  "We don't have much time.  Do you know where they are keeping Carver?"

 

Bethany nodded and grinned.  "Of course, Sister.  I've gotten rather good at this spy business."

 

"Maybe once you're out of here you could come work for me, Sunshine," Varric said cheerfully.  

 

"Why would you need a spy?" Merrill asked curiously.

 

"Everyone needs a spy in their pocket, Daisy."

 

Merrill looked even more confused, but Isabela wrapped an arm around her small shoulders.  "We'll explain it to you some other time, Kitten.  We have a daring rescue by mysterious means to pull off, and Hawke looks like she's in a hurry."

 

Bethany pulled away from Fenris, and began leading them towards the main barracks.  "They've got him in one of the cells in the old dungeons," she said.  Her face twisted into an angry frown.  "The ones they use for new mages before they create a phylactery, and for holding suspected blood mages."

 

Anders' attention which had been on Tanwen while he tried to figure out what she was up to, suddenly focused on Bethany.  "What?" he exclaimed angrily.  "He's just a boy!"

 

"Trust me, that doesn't matter here," Bethany said sadly.  "It's going to be a challenge to get to him.  The only way into the old dungeons is through the barracks."

 

"So how are we supposed to reach him?” Fenris asked.  He kept protectively close to Bethany as she led them.

 

Bethany grinned.  "You're going to provide a distraction," she said.

 

"Me?" Fenris asked in surprise.

 

"How many Templars have seen your powers and survived to tell the tale?" Bethany asked as they approached the entrance.

 

"Very few."

 

"Exactly.  Go play ghost, and cause as much chaos as you can."

 

Fenris scowled at Bethany.  "I'm not sure if I like this idea."

 

"Oh, I think it's brilliant," Merrill said cheerfully.

 

The warrior elf turned his glare on Merrill, making her wilt slightly under his gaze, but he didn't argue any further.  "Alright," he said.

 

"Wait," Bethany stopped him with a hand on his arm.  "Try not to kill them if possible," she said.  "They're not all bad people."

 

Fenris nodded his agreement.  He left the group and walked toward the closest Templars.  Once he was sure they were both watching him, he activated his markings.  

 

The Templars gave a shout of surprise at the sight of the elf fading almost completely from view.  Fenris ran between them, unphasing his hands as he passed them and knocking his fists against their armor.

 

"Demon!" Bethany shouted.  "You have to catch it before it possesses someone!"

 

"Oh, Broody is not going to like that," Varric said with a laugh.

 

Bethany just grinned and waited for a moment.  Chaos inside the barracks was spreading if the noise was anything to go by.  "Ok," she said.  "Follow me."  She led them into the building, and towards the east.  The place was a maze of corridors, but she led them with the surety of someone who knew exactly where they were going.

 

"Your sister is quite resourceful," Aveline said to Tanwen as they followed her.  "Reminds me of you, actually."

 

Tanwen gave a tight smile.  “I’m sorry for dragging you into this,” She said quietly.

 

“Hawke, this is one instance where I am in complete agreement with breaking the law,” Aveline said firmly.  “Besides, you’re practically Viscount so I’m just pretending I’m under orders.”

 

Tanwen laughed.  It was strained, but genuine.

 

Anders moved closer to Tanwen as they moved further into the tunnels below the barracks.  "Are you going to share your plan with me?" he asked.

 

She glanced at him quickly, but didn't slow down as she followed Bethany down a set of twisting stairs.  "You won't like it," she said in a low voice that wouldn't carry to the others.

 

His eyebrows went up in surprise at her tone.  "It doesn't sound like _you_ like it."  Tanwen didn't say anything, instead moving even quicker on the stairs.  He grabbed her by the arm and jerked her to a stop.  "What have you done?"

 

She looked up at him, ignoring the curious stares of their companions.  That same determination he'd seen earlier covered her face like a mask.  "I'm bringing a little justice to this city before I leave it behind," she answered sharply.  She pulled her arm out of his grasp and turned to continue down the stairs.  "Come on," she ordered.  "We have very little time left."


	24. Chapter 24

The stairwell opened into a guard station.  The Templars there were young, probably just initiates who did not yet have the pale skin and dark shadows under their eyes that Anders associated with lyrium addiction.  They were easily subdued and deposited in an empty cell, their weapons and keys confiscated.  

 

"Which cell is he in?" Tanwen asked Bethany.  

 

The younger sister led them down a long hall of cells lit only by a single torch.  Halfway down, she stopped and gestured at a door.  Tanwen eagerly unlocked and opened it.  She hesitated before stepping inside.  "Carver?" she asked cautiously.

 

"Mama?"

 

A small body rushed through the open door, and Carver wrapped his arms around Tanwen's waist.  She knelt down and ran her hands over him in search for hidden injuries before pulling him close.  "Thank the Maker," she said shakily.  

 

Anders stepped forward and let his knees collapse.  He wrapped his arms around both of them.  When he felt Barkley nudging up under one arm, he loosened his hold to allow the mabari in.  Carver giggled when a wet tongue began eagerly cleaning his face, and Anders finally felt some of his fear fade.  They still had to get out of the Gallows, but for just that moment he allowed himself to believe that everything would be alright.

 

"I hate to break up the reunion," Varric said from nearby, "But we'd better go back for Broody and get ourselves out of here."

 

"Yes," Tanwen agreed.  She pressed a kiss to Carver's forehead and then stood.  "Let's get out of here quickly.  We've got very little time."

 

"Are you ever going to tell us what your plan is, Hawke?" Aveline asked.  Her voice was steady and calm despite the unease in her expression.

 

Tanwen didn't answer.  She crouched down near Carver and gave him one of her small throwing knives.  "Stay close to your father," she ordered.  She smiled reassuringly and ruffled his hair.  Standing, she led the way back through the guard station and toward the stairs at a jog.  

 

Fenris materialized at the bottom of the stairs and nearly took a dagger in the stomach before Tanwen realized he was there.  "We've got a problem," he growled.  "My diversion has gained the Knight Commander's attention.  She and Orsino are out in the courtyard arguing.  She wants to search the tower for blood mages."

 

"Well that means you did a very good job pretending to be a demon," Merrill said cheerfully.  Then she frowned.  "Although you look more like a spirit, I think.  Demons tend to be much scarier."  Her eyes widened with worry when Fenris scowled at her.  "Not that I don't think you're scary!  I mean, you look very scary at the moment-"

 

"Kitten," Isabela warned with a fond smile.

 

"Sorry," Merrill chirped and covered her mouth with her fingertips.

 

Fenris rolled his eyes at her before turning back to Tanwen.  "I hope your plan to get out of here is a good one, Hawke.  There is no way we're getting back to the ferry without being noticed."

 

"Oh, it's a doozy," Tanwen replied.  She rubbed her temples and gave a tired sigh.  They waited in expectant silence for her to speak.  Her hesitance was unusual, and spoke volumes. Tanwen never hesitated.  She made her decisions quickly and only Anders ever knew how often she questioned herself.  

 

 _That's what leaders do,_ he thought.   _They lead by example and save their insecurities for private moments.  If you question yourself, then so will the people who follow you._ He could tell by the nervous glances everyone was exchanging that they recognized the difference.  When the silence had stretched for several minutes, Anders knew that whatever she was holding in was not going to be taken well.  She was afraid of their reaction.

 

"Love," he said suddenly into the silence.  "Can I have a word with you in private?"

 

Tanwen had jumped slightly at the sound of his voice.  She nodded jerkily, and Anders left Carver with Merrill while he walked with his wife further down the hall of cells.  Once he thought they were far enough away for privacy he took her shoulders and waited for her to look up at him.  "Tanwen, what have you done?"

 

"I... um," she swallowed but kept her gaze steady on his.  "I took Sandal's explosives to the Chantry.  I added three bottles of lyrium."

 

Anders stared at her.  So that's where the missing vials had gone.  He tried to picture the size of the explosion three whole bottles would cause.  He'd only tested a few drops at a time.  That much lyrium.... "It's going to be destroyed," he said.

 

Tanwen nodded, but didn't speak.  Away from the scrutiny of their friends her mask slipped and he could see the plea for understanding in her blue eyes.  He could see that she regretted her decision.  And he understood that it was too late to stop things.  Maybe if she'd told him when he first woke... But it had been a few hours.  He did a quick calculation and realized it would go off soon.  Any minute now.

 

"I was so angry with Elthina," Tanwen whispered when he didn't say anything right away.  "I have been trying to talk to her about the corruption in the Kirkwall Circle for years, and she always told me that she had to 'strike a balance'.  And I left it at that because of who she is.  But when I found out she turned my son in.... when I've shown her proof of what happens here... I just..." she trailed off uncertainly.  "It felt like justice to use her death to create a distraction to get us out of here."

 

"Not quite justice," Anders said.

 

"Vengeance," Tanwen murmured.  He shoulders slumped and she turned her head away.  "I wanted vengeance.  I'm so sorry."

 

Anders pulled her into his arms and tucked her head under his chin.  "Shh," he soothed.  "You never have to apologize to me for wanting vengeance."  He understood.  He wished he'd thought of it himself.  It was a message.   _Do not underestimate how far you can push a person._  It was extreme, but it was eloquent.  "They'll know it was done by magic," he said.  "And that you come from a family of mages.  They may even think you're a mage, what with the way stories spread."

 

"It's going to start a war, isn't it?"  Tanwen whispered.  "I've removed any chance for compromise."

 

Anders shook his head, and when he spoke, Justice spoke with him.  "There is no compromise," he said softly.  "We've tried to do this peacefully for years.  But there can be no peace."  No peace.  How he wished he could provide that for her and for their son.  They would have to look over their shoulders for the rest of their lives.  Because of Carver's magic.  Because of Tanwen's decision.  

 

**_No.  We cannot let her do this._ **

 

_It is too late.  Things have already been set in motion._

 

 ** _We can still protect her,_** Justice insisted.  And he was right.  Anders knew what he had to do.

 

Cupping Tanwen's cheek, he leaned down and pressed his forehead to hers.  "Let them think it was me," he said.  

 

Tanwen's eyes widened and she jerked back, but he held her in place so all she could see would be the earnestness in his expression.  "No!" she said.  "I can't let you-"

 

"Yes," Anders insisted sharply.  "I will take the blame, and you will take Carver and you will run.  You will get yourselves to safety."

 

"Anders, what if they try to kill you for-"

 

"I'm doing this, Tanwen," he said sharply.  

 

Tanwen snapped her mouth shut and glared at him for a moment.  "No.  Carver needs you."

 

"He needs you, too."

 

"I can't teach him magic."

 

Anders shook his head.  "Merrill can continue his lessons," he said.  He glanced back at their friends who were watching them nervously.   "And Bethany, once all of you are all free."

 

"All of us," Tanwen said firmly.  She grabbed the front of his coat and shook him gently.  "Do you hear me?  All of us."

 

"What about that speech you gave us about choosing between you and Carver?" Anders asked with a mischievous lift of his brows.  "Sounds like you don't really hold yourself to the same standards."

 

She frowned at him.  "You remember that?" she asked.  Then she sighed.  "Of course.  You share a head."

 

"A very handsome head.  Or so you've told me anyway," he teased.  He grew serious again.  "Please let me do this for you.  For both of you.  It should be me, not you."

 

They stood there for several seconds while he waited for her to decide.  He knew when she accepted what he was asking.  All the uncertainty faded from her and the determination that she usually displayed settled over her shoulders like a mantle.  She gave a curt nod.  "Alright," she said.  "But we're _all_ getting out of here.  Do you understand?"

 

"It's sexy when you speak like a mother," he said with a relieved grin.  

 

"That is very inappropriate right now," Tanwen said firmly.  Her lips quirked up in a smile though.  "We're wasting time."  Anders nodded and they rejoined their friends.

 

"So what's the plan, Hawke?" Varric asked.

 

Tanwen opened her mouth, and closed it again.  She gave Anders a questioning look.  He jumped in when he saw that she wasn't really sure how to proceed.  "No plan," he said.  

 

"No plan," Tanwen agreed.  "I was hoping to come up with an idea by now.  But I guess we'll have to wing it."

 

"Bold.  Daring," Isabela said.  "I like it."

 

"Dad?"  Carver slipped his hand into Anders and looked up at him expectantly.  "Can I help?" he asked.

 

Anders squeezed the small hand gently in reassurance and smiled down into pale brown eyes.  "Stay close," he said.  "And if you think you need to protect yourself with magic, you do it.  Understand?"

 

Carver nodded and sidled a little closer as they left the guard room and headed up the stairs to the barracks.  It was more difficult getting out than it had been getting in.  They were attacked several times, and they tried to keep the boy in the center of the group.  They had fought together for years, but it was different this time.  They all felt the heightened stress of protecting the boy in their midst.  

 

Isabela took out two Templars, but missed the third sneaking up behind her.  "'Bela!" Tanwen shouted in warning.  

 

Anders watched as his wife rushed to reach the other woman's side, but he could see that she would be too late.  He started casting a shield, but he wasn't sure he would be in time.  The air around Isabela shimmered as a shield went up just in time to deflect the blade aiming for her shoulders.  Tanwen arrived a second later and dispatched the Templar.

 

"Thanks, Sparklefingers!" Isabela called cheerfully.

 

"That wasn't me," Anders called back.  

 

Isabela threw a surprised look over her shoulder.  Merrill wasn't very good at shields, and the only other mage in the room was Carver.  She glanced down at him with a grin.  "Thanks, Fledgling!" she called before throwing herself back into the fight.

  


As they approached the door, Carver slipped his hand into Anders' again.  Anders glanced down to see Carver grinning wildly.  He couldn’t help but grin back at his son.  Pride and worry warred inside him, but for just a moment he allowed himself to focus only on the pride.  

 

"What do you think will happen?" Carver asked Anders

 

Anders glanced at the open barracks door.  Outside he could hear voices raised in anger, and he recognized Meredith and Orsino.  Arguing about blood mages and rights and duty and all the same things they always did.  He looked over to Tanwen to find her looking back at him.  He gave her what he hoped was an encouraging smile.  "I don't know," he said to Carver.  There were so many possibilities.  "We'll find out soon, I guess."

 

"There will be a miracle and we're going to get out of here and live happily ever after, Fledgling," Varric said from nearby.  He winked at Carver cheerfully.  "Handsome dwarves and young handsome mages always live happily ever after."

 

"Is that true, dad?" Carver asked Anders.

 

Anders glanced at Tanwen again, and then looked down at his son.  He may have his father's eyes and powers, but otherwise he was a small version of his mother.  He was the embodiment of everything Anders had ever wanted.  He had never been happier in his life than he had been since Tanwen had walked into his clinic, or at least that's what he'd thought until the morning he'd helped her deliver their son.

 

**_It was a miracle._ ** **He _is a miracle.  This mortal realm is full of them._**

 

Justice and Anders had never been more in agreement.  Anders smiled down into the brown eyes the exact shade of his own.  "Yes," he answered Carver.  "It happened to me."

 

He had no idea what would happen when they walked out that door.  But he knew that no matter what, he had lived his dream.  He would do everything he could to make sure that his son had that same chance.  And if Carver was the only mage he was able to give that gift to, then he would consider that true justice.  "Come on," he said to Carver.  "Let's go see how this story ends."


	25. Epilogue

It was colder than he expected when he stepped outside the cabin.  He shivered and pulled the top flaps of his coat closed, cursing himself silently that he hadn't replaced the top button yet.  Quickly he collected several logs of firewood and brought them inside, closing the door on the cold behind him.  He savored the warmth for a few seconds before he carried the wood to the bin next to the hearth.    
  
  
He put another log on the fire, and cast a spell that would lengthen the life of the flames.  It took several minutes of rubbing his hands in front of the fire's heat before he forgot the winter chill.  Voices caught his attention and he followed the sound to the smaller bedroom of the cabin that he currently called home.    
  
  
"But what happened next?"  
  
  
"The First Enchanter was so mad that he turned _purple_ , and then he slashed his arm open and all the dead mages started _twitching-"_  
  
  
 _"Ew_ gross!"  
  
  
"It was so gross!  And they all got up and gathered close around him until I thought he might get crushed under their weight, but then they turned into a giant monster!  It was covered with arms and feet and here and there you could see a face-"  
  
  
"And its head came off?"  
  
  
"Yes! And it almost ate Uncle Fenris, but he injured it with his giant sword and it went back to its body.  It took forever to kill it."  
  
  
Anders smiled at the excitement in Carver's voice as he listened to him through the closed door.  Even several years after the events, this was his favorite story to tell.  And his little sister Leah drank it all in every time even though she could easily tell it back to him.  Probably word for word, too.  She had an uncanny memory.  
  
  
Tanwen slipped up beside Anders and wrapped an arm around his waist.  She leaned her cheek against his shoulder and he could hear the smile in her voice when she spoke.  "Someday he'll give Varric a run for his sovereigns with the stories he tells," she said softly so the children wouldn't hear her.  
  
  
"This one is true," Anders whispered back.  "Although I probably wouldn't believe it if I hadn't lived it."  
  
  
"And then you tried to get away-" Leah said excitedly  
  
  
"Hey, who's telling this story?" Carver demanded sternly.  
  
  
There was a giggle.  "Sorry."  
  
  
"So then we tried to escape, but the Knight Commander was there to stop us.  And she was so angry.  She just snapped and started screaming to the Maker for power to vanquish her enemies.  And her eyes began to glow red-"  
  
  
"What about the statues?"  
  
  
"I'm getting to it.  Mom and Dad and everyone tried to fight her, but she started bringing the statues to life to fight for her."  
  
  
"You know, sometimes I worry about letting him tell her these bedtime stories," Anders whispered.    
  
  
Tanwen chuckled.  "No kidding.  But he hasn't given her nightmares yet."  
  
  
"It's not that," Anders replied.  "I'm worried she's going to grow up with a taste for adventure and she'll go off and get herself into trouble."  
  
  
"Yeah, I've thought of that myself," Tanwen said.  "Maybe it's time to get her a dagger."  
  
  
Anders rolled his eyes.   _Oh yes, that'll help,_ he thought.  But he smiled at the idea of his daughter being as graceful and deadly as her mother.  She took after him in coloring, with straight golden hair, and pale brown eyes, but she would definitely be just as beautiful as her mother.  It was comforting to think that Leah could stab overeager suitors so he wouldn't have to zap them when she was older.  "Yeah, maybe it is," he conceded in a soft murmur, making Tanwen grin.  He gave her a wink and turned his attention back to the bedtime story.  
  
  
"And she gave one more mighty scream for power, but it was too much.  Light began pouring through her skin, and her body froze into a statue of corrupted lyrium," Carver continued.  Leah was silent, and Anders could picture her wide eyes as she waited eagerly for the rest.  "No one moved for several heartbeats, then one of the Templars came forward to touch the Knight Commander, but she didn't because it was such a terrifying sight.  We were all scared to move because we were surrounded by Templars.  But then the Knight Captain, he gave a small nod, lowered his sword and took a step back.  And so did all the rest, so we knew they would be letting us go free-"  
  
  
"They were scared of you!"  
  
  
"Yes they were!  And they had reason to be," Carver said with a laugh.  His voice which had been steady throughout the whole story finally cracked, dropping into deeper tones, proving that adolescence was right around the corner.  
  
  
"And did you live happily ever after?" Leah asked.  
  
  
Carver didn't answer right away but Leah began to squeal with giggles, hinting at a sudden tickle attack.  After she cried breathlessly for mercy, he finally answered her.  "Of course we did," he said.  "The heroes always live happily ever after."  
  
  
Anders smiled when he heard the conviction in his son’s voice.  It was difficult living as a family of apostates, especially one that gave assistance to other mages whenever they could.  They had moved more than once since leaving Kirkwall; twice since Leah had been born. Tanwen had told him they may never find a permanent home.  He and Tanwen never expected ease and comfort after leaving Kirkwall.  Because of their actions the Circles were beginning to rebel, and sometimes Anders felt torn apart on the inside by Justice’s need to _do more about the plight of the mages_ until Tanwen wrapped her arms around them and soothed them with her love.  

 

 

Their moment of peace was interrupted by a loud pounding on the door.  Silence fell over the cabin and for a split second Anders and Tanwen stared into each other’s eyes in shock.  Then Tanwen’s eyes flicked to the table near the hearth where the blade of a carving knife glinted in the firelight.  Anders released his hold on her, and she moved to grab the makeshift weapon as flames wreathed his hands.

 

 

He moved to the door, but before opening it he glanced over his shoulder to make sure Tanwen was armed.  She had the knife and had positioned herself between him and the door to the children’s room.  Movement behind her caught Anders’ eyes and he saw Carver had opened the door slightly to peer out.  Bluish-purple power shimmered around him, and Anders could sense he had raised a magical barrier around himself, and was casting another one on Tanwen.

 

 

Anders gave his son a nod of approval, then reached to open the door just as whoever was on the other side knocked again.  He jerked the door open on the second knock, fireball ready to fly at the intruders.  What he saw stopped him, and a grin spread across his face as the flames faded from his fingers.

 

 

“Really?  Fire?  If you are attempting to hide the fact that you are a mage, that is the worst way to answer the door.  No wonder it took you so many tries to escape the Circle.”

 

 

The knife in Tanwen’s hand clattered loudly as she tossed it back to the table.  Anders’ chuckle was drowned out by an excited squeal and he quickly stepped to the side to get out of his wife’s way as she launched herself at her sister.

 

 

Bethany laughed and returned Tanwen’s tight embrace.  “Hello, Sister,” she managed to choke through happy tears.

 

 

Fenris nudged the women from behind and they broke apart just enough for Tanwen to drag Bethany further into the cabin.  Carver and Leah came spilling out of their room now that they knew the danger was past, and Bethany was enveloped in more hugs.

 

 

“I’m so glad to see you,” Tanwen said in a wobbly voice.  “Why didn’t you write?  We could have met you in town, or made sure we had a room prepared…”

 

 

Anders turned away from the happy reunion and gave Fenris a welcoming smile as he stepped through the door.  The elf’s cloak was wrapped tightly around himself and his son Noah.  The boy blinked his eyes slowly, apparently just awakened by the commotion.  His dark green eyes widened in excitement when he saw Carver and Leah.  He wiggled until Fenris put him down and rushed over to greet his cousins. 

 

 

Fenris’ mouth twisted up into a small but fond smile before he turned to Anders who shut the door against the cold winter wind behind him.  “Mage,” he growled good-naturedly.

 

 

“It’s good to see you,” Anders said with a grin as he held out his hand.  Fenris didn’t hesitate to take it in his firm grip.  “Sorry for the caution,” he continued.  “We rarely have visitors after dark.  People believe the woods around here are haunted.”

 

 

Fenris tilted his head in a graceful nod.  “So we heard from the villagers.  Bethany insisted we push through the evening since we were so close-“

 

 

Tanwen’s voice cut him off.  “You’re _pregnant?_   And you were traveling in this weather, _at night_?  What were you thinking?” she demanded hotly.

 

 

Anders had turned his attention to the women at Tanwen’s outburst.  Now he looked back to Fenris, and couldn’t refrain from teasing him.  “No wonder you didn’t tell her no.  Pregnant women are terrifying.” 

 

 

Fenris snorted and rolled his eyes toward Bethany.  “Indeed,” he agreed simply. 

 

 

“Congratulations,” Anders said softly.  And he meant it.  If the two of them had anything in common, it was how much having a family of their own meant to them. 

 

 

The elf’s grim countenance was broken by a small but proud smile.  “She insisted on seeing the best healer in Thedas,” he explained wryly.

 

 

“Well,” Anders answered with a laugh.  “Don’t tell any of the Senior Enchanters –if there are any left- but I believe you came to the right place.”  He wrapped an arm around his brother-in-law’s shoulder and led him further into the cabin to join everyone else already seated at the table.

 

 

As Anders looked around at his extended family, he felt a twinge of regret that the rest of their friends from Kirkwall could not be closer.  But they kept in contact as best they could, and he wouldn’t look a gift horse in the mouth.  He had more joy in his life than he’d ever hoped for or even expected.  He wouldn’t dwell over the darker parts of his life right now, when he had so much to be grateful for.  A sense of contentment filled him, and he was surprised there was no dissent from his spirit passenger.  _No lectures on “doing more to bring justice to the mages?”_ he thought in amusement.

 

 

**_As you frequently remind me, I am now a part of the mortal realm.  We already do as much as we can._ **

****

****

Anders almost snorted, but managed to keep it to himself.  _Why, that sounded positively human, my friend.  What’s happened to you, Justice?  Is family life making you soft?_

**_As our friend Merrill pointed out long ago, I am not quite Justice any longer._ **

****

****

Maker, but wasn’t that the truth!  Anders knew he had been changed by having the spirit join with him.  It was only natural that the changes would go both ways.  More and more over the last several years, he had felt Justice and himself slide further into sync.  And right now, they both just wanted to bask in the warmth from the smiles of their family.

 

 

“Happily ever after, indeed,” Anders murmured, recalling his children’s earlier words.

 

 

“Is that what we’re doing?” Tanwen asked quietly.  “Living ‘happily ever after’?”

 

 

He hadn’t realized he had spoken out loud.  Anders sat down at the table next to his wife, and wrapped his arm around her when she leaned into him.  She was still beautiful to him, and with her hair pulled out of its braids and falling around her shoulders in black waves interrupted here and there by lines of silver, she was stunning.  "Yes," he murmured as he leaned in to press his lips against hers.  "We are."


End file.
